The Quarter Moon Gamble
by NeuroticMuse413
Summary: COMPLETED! Veela!Draco. A bet and an accident send Hermione into the arms of Draco Malfoy. But what happens when she can no longer stand the moments they're apart, the forbidden kisses he took without remorse, the slow dances, or the warmth of his touch?
1. A Kiss for Thought

**THE QUARTER MOON GAMBLE**

_By NeuroticMuse413_

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**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own any characters present in the Harry Potter books, nor do I take credit for them. This plot, though using the same names and similar aspects to their personalities, is a complete fabrication of my imagination. Hope you like it.

**NOTE:** This story doesn't take place during a specific book. If anything, I'd say around 5th year. The events surrounding Harry are irrelevant because the story joins Hermione and Draco. Some scenes are slightly graphic. Nothing too explicit, but keep it in mind.

**SUMMARY:** Hermione enters a bet with Slytherin out of drunken ambition and now she has to stop a certain photo of her kissing a certain Malfoy from circulating Hogwarts halls. Ron and Harry do the can-can, McGonagall's smashed, blue butterbeer, broken toes, tiny closets, and a leaky roof that's driving them mad.

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**C**hristmas at Hogwarts was always something to look forward to, except for those few whose rotten luck never brought anything more than rainy reminders of how much worse things are about to get. The falling snow seemed to like its new home and would creep through the cracks on the old roof of Gryffindor tower. The boy's dormitory seemed unscathed but at three in the morning, the sound of raindrops could be heard all throughout the echoing tower.

It tormented Hermione. The raindrops would find her anywhere she went, falling atop her nose night after night. By the twelfth December night of heavy winter, she decided she'd complain to higher authority.

The next day, she went to complain to McGonagall and found the woman drunk and displayed spread-eagle atop her desk in an empty classroom.

"Professor? Would you take a look at the girls' dormitory? The roof is leaking something awful," she said cautiously but the professor simply began singing the theme to Chitti Chitti Bang Bang and mumbled something about school being nearly over for Christmas break and that she should fix it herself.

"But I have! There are cracks all over the roof. I fix one and the water just comes out another!" she yelled but she got drunken bantering in return.

She went to Filch and he insisted he had more important things to take care of. "Are you crazy? Me go in the girls' dormitory? They'd fire me faster than a roadrunner!" So she forgot about it for the rest of the day.

That night, rather than swim back to her bed, she decided to join the boys at the winter dinner in the Great Hall. She wasn't much for it. None of the girls were because the boys always found a way to sneak in booze and spend the night dancing on tables with ties wrapped around their heads like hippies on vacation.

When she got there, the party had already started. It was supposed to be dinner but she hardly saw food that wasn't being used as projectiles. What _the hell is going on with this place?_ she thought to herself. _Everyone's gone mad!_

She passed some third-year Slytherins taking turns knocking down floating candles and some Ravenclaws peeing in the butterbeer somewhat evidently before reaching the Gryffindor end. Ron and Harry were in bathrobes sitting on top of the tables drinking something a strange bluish color in shot glasses.

"Well you two look ridiculous," she said, greeting them with a smile.

"Grab a table!" slurred Harry and he helped her up to sit beside him. "Butterbeer?"

He handed her a shot glass of the bluish liquid. "No thank you. I saw what the Ravenclaws were doing with it."

"Oh no. This is from our own stock," replied Ron, twirling the liquid in a bottle by his nose.

"Is that why it's blue?" she asked, not really wanting an answer. Ron just hiccupped his response. "Harry, I can see him drinking one of his brothers' concoctions but why you? Come on, you'd have to have known you had a 50-50 chance of self-induced vomiting and possible shape-shifting to your interior organs."

"Well," he said in-between shots with some other Gryffindor boys, "I figure this: I might have a 50-50 chance of death drinking this slock but I at least know with about 89 certainty that one of its main ingredients is not urine.

Hermione laughed, took a shot glass, and dove in.

"That's the spirit, Hermione!" said Lavender, who walked by with her arm wrapped around some poor Hufflepuff's stomach. Hermione looked around. There couldn't have been more than a few handfuls of girls, most of them with already trashed reputations.

Ron had begun to sing some sort of Irish jig with Dean and Neville about some sort of prostitute or barmaid that worked at the Busty Barnacle and walked around in red spandex.

"This is ridiculous. I think I'm gonna go," she told Harry.

Ron had heard and jumped off the table after her. "Come on Hermione, dance with me!" he yelled.

"That's all right, Ron. Let's just say I owe you one."

"No, come on! You never have any fun," he said and took her arms as if to dance and collapsed down her front like a piece of paper to the wind. She sighed and helped him back up to the table beside Harry. When she looked back up, some Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were playing a game with dice back by the teacher's table. Draco Malfoy was playing the animate host and enticing others into play.

She didn't know why but she felt the urge to go play. So she took another shot of the blue butterbeer and began to wobble towards the table.

"So you want to play the Quarter Moon Gamble, Gryffindor? I warn you, it's not something to be taken lightly," Crabbe growled above her. She couldn't quite focus her vision and she knew she'd gotten the bad half of the 50-50 chance of severe death. She looked back at the Gryffindors. They'd begun a jolly can-can line of drunken mumbling.

"How do you play?" she asked, determined to prove Ron wrong. Crabbe stepped aside and she stepped onto the bench-seat of the table and up to the circle of players.

"Well look who's here," Malfoy said with certain amusement. He was sober, she could tell. Either that or he could hold his liquor well. "Welcome to the Quarter Moon Gamble."

"Why's it called that?" she asked, seeing him in swirls of color.

"Because it sounded good. And because each bet takes a quarter moon before it's over."

"What's that mean?" asked a Hufflepuff.

"You dare someone to do something dirty and if they don't do it, by the next quarter moon, they'll have to pay."

"Pay what?" Hermione asked.

"Depends. All I can tell you is it doesn't involve money." Draco smirked as he spoke. Was he checking her out, she wondered by the look in his eyes. It seemed like he wanted to eat her alive but her intestines seemed to be doing that for him.

The rest of the circle was a blur. Time seemed to blend into the colors. The lights from the floating candles hurt her. She held her head and went to get up, go back to the leaky sanctity of her room but it was too late. The beer had gotten to her. She went to step down but found herself falling back. She wasn't sure whose but two sturdy hands grabbed onto her a foot before her head reached the table.

All she remembered was something blonde holding her up. "Malfoy?" she asked, her eyes dazed and drawn to the painful lights. The blonde blur smirked devilishly. It had to be him. He helped her to her unsteady feet but she seemed to have no control of her limbs. He picked her up effortlessly and carried her down the table.

As they went, she heard a voice much like Crabbe's yelling after them, "Remember, Malfoy! We better see some proof you did something."

"Did... something?" she repeated back to Draco. Those words echoed in her head all the way from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room. She mumbled the password to the lady in the portrait who looked at them in great worry. She didn't seem to want to open but Draco seemed to speak something to her. The lady seemed flattered and the door swung open.

The common room was empty, as far as she could tell. He set her down by the fire. He took out his wand and yelled a sobriety spell and slowly her vision focused. When she opened her eyes, he was practically nose to nose with her as if he wanted to kiss her but had frozen seconds before their lips touched.

"What the hell?" she yelled and pushed him off. She sat on the floor and had sent him knocking into the table by the sofas. "What did you think you were doing?" She looked down. The first few buttons of her blouse were open.

"I wasn't going to do anything! I promise!" he shouted.

"What?" she said and began fumbling her blouse closed. She was still a little doused by the blue liquid. A Polaroid camera floated by their heads. She saw it and squealed. "That was your bet, wasn't it? Get me up here drunk, do whatever you wanted, and get a souvenir for your mates to laugh about? Dumb move sobering me up first."

"I was going to but... I could never do that. I was just going to pose the picture and get out of the bet."

"You sorry-assed bastard! No chance of that now, she said trying to stand up.

"Shhhh... you'll wake up the other Gryffindors," he hissed, running to catch her before she fell again.

"Get your hands off me!" she growled.

"Would you shut up, woman? I'm trying to help you here. It was your drunk-mates that got you like this, not me!" he said as he sat her in the comfy sofa by the fire.

She groaned an angry reply.

He knelt down in front of her, his eyes filled with worry. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Bloody stupid question, but yes. I'll be fine."

"A fourth-year was about to bet he'd steal Dumbledore's teeth when you fell over," he said soothingly, brushing the hair back from her face. "You had me worried."

"Sorry to ruin your fun," she said crossly. "You'll have to find another girl to rape, Malfoy."

"I was not going to rape you! It was just a kiss and a picture!" he defended. She pointed at her blouse. "Alright maybe not."

She was beginning to fall back asleep. He slapped her lightly and she woke up. She was still drunk.

"You know you're really cute in this light?" she said a little woozy.

"I'm cute in any light, darling," he joked, reaching for her hand. She thought he was being romantic but he just checked her pulse. She made a small noise of disappointment. He smiled and glanced up.

She was stubborn and tried to get up again, despite his warnings, but she ended up on her knees in front of him, her head too heavy to hold up. She collapsed on top of him, her head on his shoulder, her hand by his.

It sent fire through him, their contact. Even if it was slight, it still brought his cold heart to life -- her breath upon her neck like tiny needles seeping through him, the fragrance of her hair turning his hands to pure sweat. He gulped and tried to push her off him, at the very least get her back in the chair before any of her friends came back and beat the living snot out of him, but her hand was moving up his arm towards his neck.

_Oh great. She's going to try to choke me_, he thought. But her hand made it to his face and before he knew it, she had raised her lips to his and kissed him.

She couldn't believe what she had begun, and obviously neither could he. His lips were tense at first, reserved in shock. But, there was a moment when his hands found her arms again and his lips found motion, and a sharp lust rose through him, cutting him in two just long enough for him to forget who she was and how he had come to be there. She felt like it might end too soon and she'd never be allowed this feeling again, so she pressed tightly against him, begging him for more. His hands had found her waist and pulled her blouse out of its neat tuck. One slipped under and rounded her waist, pulling her closer. His other moved on her thigh under her skirt.

And then, he couldn't breathe. It took all his might to pull away. He quickly withdrew his hands into the air in surrender, fighting to catch his breath. "No," he said, his voice a little ragged, and then more firmly, "No."

"No..." she repeated and realized she was on top of him. "Oh God!" she yelled and jumped back.

But it was too late.

The camera had already gone off and the Polaroid had fallen by his hand on the floor of the common room.

They froze for a moment. He looked at it. She looked at it. They looked at each other and she warned, "Move and my knee comes into sudden impact with your groin, understand?"

"Is that a promise?" He smiled coyly. "Eh?"

She narrowed her eyes and slowly got off him, not taking her reddened eyes off him as she went to reach for it. But just as she thought she'd won, he said, "Accio photograph," and it flies right out of her grasp.

"Malfoy, give it here!" she yelled, though she realized she was on all fours and still half-intoxicated. She had little influence to go through with any threats. She didn't even know where her wand was.

"Awww... but you look so sweet here. I think I'll keep it thanks," he said and got up, admiring it with the same wry smile.

"Damn you, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Goodnight, Hermione. Drink lots of fluids. Get some rest. You'll be fine," he said quickly and pocketed the picture, running a hand through his hair and straightening his clothes. "Back to the party then."

And he walked right out through the portrait with the same smug demeanor he walked in, leaving her kneeling in defeat on the floor by the cozy fire.

It was several minutes before she got up and wobbled up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, to her bed that as soon as laid her tired head to rest, seemed to rain down upon her a reminder that things can only get worse.

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"My… my… my… Aren't you fascinating?" came a voice from above. Hermione took her eyes off her book for an instant to confirm her assumption and yes, unfortunately, it was Draco Malfoy standing over her tall, blonde, and pale.

"I'm sure you're wanted elsewhere, Malfoy. I believe that's your fan club calling."

"My fan club can wait. It seems you have a quarrel with me. I'd like an explanation," he said and sat down roughly in the library seat in front of her.

"A quarrel?" she asked, insulted that he would even talk to her let alone that he implied it was all her problem. "Is that what you call it? How about 'blind hatred?' That sounds about right. No wait! 'Distaste to the point of vomiting.' Or maybe 'I'd rather eat a bag of thistles' is more politically correct!"

"Calm down! We're in a library!" he hissed at her, gesturing with his hand for her to lower her volume. "I need to talk to you. Take a walk with me?"

She looked around. People were already staring. She sighed and nodded and began to collect her books. He had already turned around and begun walking out of the library with his nose up in the air as usual. She scoffed and followed slowly, trying not to notice the eyes upon her.

When she reached the doorway, he was leaning against the wall right outside with his arms crossed, looking at his Quidditch boots with a worried expression like there might be a tiny scuff on one of them and he might have to throw it out.

"Let's go then," he said without looking up and she followed him cautiously. She hugged her books tightly as if to guard herself from his inherent malice.

It was 5 minutes before he spoke again, 5 of the longest minutes of life. But then when he spoke, it was all worth it.

"Do you fancy me?" he asked genuinely looking at her as if expecting a real answer.

"No!" she yelled. The day slowly turned to dusk and the hallways were nearly empty or else the usual bustle of students would have all turned in shock. "What kind of question is that? It's like asking if I fancy a toad or that weird wart on Savila Porinsi's nose."

He smirked. She was jittery, couldn't think straight. He could tell a lie a mile away, seeing as he was an expert liar. "You do. I can tell. You're red as a Weasley, Granger," he laughed. But it wasn't all that funny to him.

She scrunched up her nose and gave him a cross look. She'd stopped walking and now they stood in the middle of a hallway. "What quarrel did you want to talk about, Malfoy?"

"Why do you call me Malfoy?"

"Why do you call me Granger? Why do you call me a Mudblood, while we're on the topic?"

"Oh don't be so sensitive." She raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes menacingly. "Alright... Alright, I'm sorry."

Her expression softened into shock. "Did Draco Malfoy just apologize to a Gryffindor?"

He realized it too and looked away, and kept walking down the stairs. She looked back at the empty hallway and reluctantly followed beside him. She had an hour or so before she planned to meet up with Harry and Ron at the Great Hall.

They walked all the way down to the lake in silence. Hermione kept looking around to see if anyone saw them together. If Harry or Ron found out, they might never speak to her again. But still, she followed. Why? She didn't know. It was maybe his gentle eyes, the tender reminder of the good hidden deep in people. In the back of her mind, she might have done it to get caught but she'd never admit it.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"I'm not taking you anywhere. We're just walking, Granger. Take in the fresh air. Enjoy the scenery. Relax for once, woman!"

"Relax?" she yelled back. "This is ridiculous! What am I doing? I must be going mad!"

"Are you always this loud?"

"Yes!"

"Hmm, well then go. Walk away. Pretend the other day never happened."

"Oh please! I don't need to pretend. Nothing happened. I was drunk."

"Drunk?" he said with a wry smile. "I was close enough to taste your breath, darling. Butterbeer and red licorice is not exactly drunkard material."

"What do you care? You got kissed by a girl who WASN'T forced against her will or tied and blindfolded. Get over it. I spent all night brushing my teeth till they bled, thank you very much."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well… I'm glad I had some effect on your… teeth."

She couldn't help a smirk. "Why are you even bringing this up, Draco? Go back to your snakes and your petty insults. I'm sure the other boys got a kick out of it."

She had turned around and begun to walk away when he clutched her arm and pulled her back to him. It was meant to be impulsive and even romantic. He was ready to kiss her again. But just as her stunned lips reached mere centimeters from his, her Monster Book of Monsters landed on his foot, causing him to yell out in pain as her two other thick reads cracked open atop his feet.

Instantly, he began to shout obscenities and jump around on one foot. Hermione ran after him yelling, "Oh my God! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

He saw a tree trunk by them, hopped towards it, and sat down. She sat next to him and tried to calm him down but he was too enthused by his own whining.

"Would you shut up!" she yelled and he gave a small squeak and shut up. She pulled his leg onto her lap and took off his boot. His toenail had begun to bleed and the top of his foot had turned red. There'd be a large bruise there later, she knew.

She took out her wand quickly and said calmly, "Don't be such a baby," before whispering a simple healing charm and fixing his foot right up. "There you are. Back to your usual irritating self."

He didn't say thanks but he shot her a smile and a look that left a twinkle in her eyes for days.

"My hero," he said, putting his boot back on, his smile gone.

"Don't be silly. I was merely trying to stop the whining. Werewolves in Romania could hear your howling. And there was no need to bring Dumbledore's mother into your rant," Hermione said, going to pick up her books from the floor.

"Oh she had it coming to her."

"The woman's been dead for 50 years, Malfoy."

"So? Look at what she raised. Death was a blessing. I take nothing back."

"Bah. I'm going to dinner. Goodbye Draco. Deal with whatever 'quarrel' you had by yourself," she said, making a dismissing gesture and turning back towards the castle. "Write in your diary or something."

"Oh I plan to," he whispered to himself and smirked. He quickly tied his shoelaces and ran after her. "Hey, listen. I don't usually kiss anybody without at least buying them dinner. So… can I walk you?"

She smiled at him wonderingly, her eyes too tired to protest. She looked down sheepishly, forgetting for at least a moment his true nature, his ties to darkness. It was always so easy to forget, so easy to regret it later.

He took a few of her books and smiled. This time, she didn't follow. They walked side by side. He tried to start a conversation, something about her classes but she was a bit lost into how Harry and Ron would react if she befriended the enemy. And then she thought of Ron as she stared at the grass before her. Draco was going on about something or other. Ron would be jealous. He might even try to take it out on Draco. No harm there seeing as she hated him. Or she had hated him. He seemed so innocent talking to her as if he wanted her to listen, as if he wanted her opinion.

They neared the entrance. She could see the boys practicing at the Quidditch field and guilt drowned her. "Why did you say 'quarrel'? Why did come up to me?" she said quietly, looking down at her feet on the snow-scattered stairs. It would be spring soon.

"I don't know," he lied, looking away. "Maybe I just felt like it. Maybe I was thinking of you."

She knew it took a lot for him to admit anything he was feeling. "Well I suppose it wasn't completely unwanted. I'd been meaning to talk to you too."

"It's about the photograph, isn't it?"

"Yeah… In how much trouble would you get if you didn't turn it into Slytherin?"

"Oh they could kill me," he said calmly as if he'd just admitted he wanted lunch.

"Kill you over a kiss!"

"We take our bets very seriously. It's why we never gamble. Last time I did… well let's just say I'm not a natural blonde anymore," he said. She laughed but tried to hide it. "I heard that."

She smiled even brighter. "Don't make me laugh. I mean it. You can't turn it in. Is there a loophole to the rules?"

He was about to reply when he heard the sound of rustling feet coming down the hall. "Someone's coming," he shushed her. Quickly, he opened the nearest door and pushed her in, leaving her books to fall to the floor.

She pressed her ear to the wooden door and held her breath as a small group of first year girls ran by giggling. She took as deep breath as soon as she heard them pass then turned to him but couldn't see him very well.

"Are we… Are we in janitor's closet?" she asked in the darkness.

"I don't know. I don't think so. It's just an empty room."

"An empty, dark room the size of a postage stamp, yes," she said, irritated. She could feel his body heat. He was so close. If only she could see him.

"Lumos," he whispered, and a small light blossomed from the end of his wand in-between them. When she looked up, he was closer than she thought and the room was even smaller. She gazed down at him, the glow reflecting like cloud-light off her porcelain skin. He was beginning to feel extremely dizzy and lightheaded, probably from the heavy sweet fragrance that clung to her hair and hands. When he noticed her proximity, he just cleared his throat as if hiding a gulp and said hoarsely, "It's probably clear now."

She nodded, still caught in his boyish stare, and he poked his head out to see. The hallway was empty again. "Maybe it's best you don't walk me to dinner. I was going to stop by Gryffindor tower anyway," she said and slowly crept through the door. "Thank you for the walk, Draco." She shot him an apologetic smile.

"I understand," he said seriously. She had turned around, her skirt and hair fluttering in the cold air, and Draco thought grace was leaving him. "You know what? I'll find you that loophole!" he yelled after her.

"Why?" she asked, walking lightheartedly backwards.

"Because you called me Draco!" he yelled back. She was still close enough for him to hear her laugh.

Their encounter left a scar, a smile upon his face. He was about to turn towards the Great Hall when he looked down and saw the books she had dropped still scattered on the floor beside her scarf. And from one of the books, a marker had escaped its pages. When he went to pick it up, he froze. It was a picture of her and Harry and Ron taken, most probably by Colin, after a winning Quidditch match a while ago. She still looked like a little girl, as he'd seen her across Potions for years. After all, how could he not notice her? The hand that pleaded for Snape's attention seemed to have attracted his too.

So he picked up the books and the scarf and when he went to pick up the picture, he felt his heart rival itself with jealousy and he ripped it in two and kept the part with her then discarded Harry and Ron's faces to the cold hallway floor.

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**To be continued:**

Confrontations, swimming with a lake monster, making out in closets (but not with who you think), astronomy towers full of moments, more drunken singing -- I think Ron has a problem, jealousy everywhere, and what happens during potions that makes Draco such a pet…

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**REVIEW! **


	2. Vagina Dialogues

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART TWO

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Hermione woke up late the next morning. Light had already filled the empty dormitory. She figured she was too late for class by now so she took a little stroll through the melting snow. She tried so hard not to think of Draco but worry seemed to flood over any happy thought she had of him.

_That photo is probably in the hands of every greasy Slytherin all the way up to Snape,_ she thought and kicked a stone down the path. She got so frustrated that the next time she kicked it, it went flying all the way down the path towards the bushes, which let out a great, "Ow!"

"Is someone there? Come out you!" she yelled at the bushes, feeling like a madwoman.

"Lower your voice. My head hurts as it is," said Malfoy, irritated, getting up off the ground and rubbing his forehead sorely.

"Were you spying on me!" she screamed and went to pick up an even bigger rock. She held it above her head, ready to throw it his way, but he raised his hands in surrender and yelled for her to stop.

"I wasn't spying. I was reading. Some Ravenclaws took my usual spot under the tree near the Quidditch field," Draco said, stepping out of the bushes.

Hermione knew he wasn't lying. She'd often seen him under that tree with a pile of books that looked incredibly evil. She still gave him a cross look and gestured that he come walk with her. He followed.

"Have you found a loophole yet? The next quarter moon is the full moon and that's in a week."

"Well I've been looking through the official rulebooks," he said, holding up the book. He noticed Hermione's surprised look. There was an actual rulebook. "But nothing much here except a lovely list of punishments if I don't fulfill the bet. What do you think: public hanging or public flogging?"

"Oh God," she whispered under her breath, looking at her feet.

"I'm making a list of things I'm thankful for before I die. Want to hear?"

"Don't say such things. I'd never let you die. If it came to it…" she stopped and looked at him with sad, begging eyes. "Tell me your list."

"Well first I'm thankful for being blonde and devilishly good-looking."

She scoffed. "No surprise there."

"No surprise that I'm good-looking or that I'm disgustingly self-centered?"

She shot him a look that he didn't much care for but he ignored it and continued, "Then I'm thankful for pecan pie." She made a face like she didn't really care for it herself and he laughed. "Right. Number 3: Our little meeting in the common room."

She smiled jubilantly and he dismissed that too. "Number 4: Being able to see that smile, considering how much of a prick I've been to you."

"You weren't a prick," she said and he looked surprised. "You were just a complete asshole."

He laughed and took her gloved hand and kissed it, his eyes upon her frightened expression. He smiled, seeing her blush.

"Listen, there's going to be a small party in Hogsmeade tomorrow at 8:00. I know it's short notice but maybe you'd consider being my date," he said, still holding her hand and looking down shyly.

She pulled her hand away. "Uh… What's number 5?"

He smirked sadly. "I'm thankful for… vaginas."

She stopped walking and looked at him like he'd just uttered the avada kedavra curse at a kitten.

"What? I _am_ thankful."

"You don't say that, Draco. That's just… no! Besides, try having one."

"No thank you. Maybe as a pet. Can you imagine? Vaginas are no longer just for Christmas." She started laughing, trying to conceal it with both hands. "It would be interesting having to clean up after it."

"No more. I beg you," she said. "Play with your pet, now. Make sure it gets a lot of love, feed it."

"Every day. Twice on Fridays. Hey, isn't it Friday? I'll be back later..." he said and gestured like he was going back to the castle. "Just wish they were easier to come by."

"There's a few mating calls for the wild vagina, did you know? 'You're so beautiful. Let me be your world, baby,' '…and it hurts me inside, because I'm really not as tough as I seem...' etc," she mocked in a rough voice resembling some sort of horny Bulgarian Quidditch player we all know. "What do you think they do, just grow on trees? You have to work for them, you silly boy!"

"How much am I gonna have to work with you? Wait, you're saying they _don't_ grow on trees? Then what the hell have I been... oh damn."

She gave a sharp laugh. "Well yea, it's not exactly a nice topic here, Draco. How often have you overheard a group of men talking about their penises for no apparent reason?"

"Depending on how many games of Quarter Moon Gamble you play, or how much you drink, quite often over at Slytherin."

She whispered under her breath, "You should. Even the girls have them."

"What was _that_?" Draco asked. "Do I sense some hostility there? Jealousy?"

She squinted at him her distaste. Then she made a slight realization. "Don't you have class now?"

"So do you. I was reading. What are you doing out here, then?"

"I didn't want to go in late. So I dashed. I needed some air, desperately."

"How come? Have you finally realized the odor coming from the Gryffindor boys' dormitory isn't really dirty socks?"

"No, and I figured that out a while ago, thank you. The roof keeps leaking and no one will do anything about it. It's frustrating me. No one cares around the holidays," she said distractedly, folding her arms to protect herself from the cold. Draco made a noise like he understood what she meant. She looked over and saw his hands were in his pockets and his jaw wanted to shiver. "Draco, have you any gloves?" she asked loudly.

"Nope, I forget them upstairs," he said and she immediately extended her gloved hands to his blue shivering ones and caressed them with her warmth, bringing him closer to her, face to face. "How is it whenever we meet in secret, we end up like this?"

"I don't know but… is that offer for Hogsmeade still open?"

"What's this then? A change of mind?"

"No, it's thank you for not feeding me a cheesy line," she said, still looking down at their intertwined hands.

"Well thanks for not laughing at my vagina monologue." At that she laughed uncontrollably, unable to hide her smile with her preoccupied hands.

"You should start a religion. You seem dedicated enough to them."

"It's called orgasmism. I invented it some years ago, originally because it was fun to say. Now I practice it monogamously."

She shook her head as she laughed and took her warm hand, brought it to his face, and got up on her toes to kiss him, whispering, "Just shut up," just before her cold lips reached his.

----

When Hermione reached the entrance to Hogwarts, she had returned with a smile on her face and only one glove, looking down at her steps as if she were ready to sing under the rain. But just when even the weather couldn't deter her happiness, she looked up and saw a very sad Ron sitting on the top stair of the entrance leaning forward onto his knees and letting the cold water wash over him, his red hair long over his eyes, hiding his sorrow as always.

She stopped at the base of the stairs, fearing the worst. He stood up and looked at her through strands of wet hair. The sound of rain was deafening. "Looks like it might get warmer," she said lightly, trying to get him to stop staring her down but it was useless.

"I saw you Hermione," he said tonelessly. "I saw you two."

Her heart sank into the bottom of her stomach and seemed to have begun a dogfight with her intestines.

"I was worried you didn't come to class so I did a locator spell. I was worried," he repeated as if he felt foolish even to have thought he could worry about someone who's having much more fun without him. It seemed he was biting the inside of his cheeks to hold composure, but she could see how much it hurt him. And that in turn hurt her thrice as painfully.

She looked to the door and saw his broom leaned against it. "Oh God, Ron… What's it to you?" she asked defensively. A few days ago, she could never have imagined herself defending what _could_ be a relationship with Draco Malfoy. In her mind, she scoffed.

"What's it to me?" he yelled back. "He's… He's Draco Malfoy! A Slytherin!"

"Is that all that's bothering you?" she replied. "That he's a Slytherin?"

He just looked at her, biting down his words.

"If that's all that bothers you about us, Ron, then you and I have nothing more to speak of," she said and walked up the stairs with her head held high and her face firm, trying to hold back how horrible she felt that he saw them.

Right now, that photograph meant nothing to her. And then she thought: maybe the only reason she was trying to hide it from circulating Hogwarts halls was so _Ron_ wouldn't see.

Did she care for him? She always had. But maybe things were different now. Too little too late.

And what of Draco? What of poor Harry about to get caught in the middle of two feuding friends?

She skipped lunch that day, despite her extreme hunger, and spent it up in the girls' dormitory. The rest of her classes, she avoided all eye contact with Ron. She had none with Draco, which she was both and glad and saddened by. Surely, if she had Draco, Ron would be there as well and she wasn't sure if she could face both at the same time.

Around dinnertime, when she thought they'd all gone, she headed downstairs to the common room. Harry had just come in through the portrait hole and when he looked up, he greeted her with his usual smile, which made her want to start crying right then and there. He saw want to break down and ran to her.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, but she'd already started to sob uncontrollably.

"I messed up, Harry. And the thing is, I don't know with which one," she said as he walked her over to the armchair by the fire. But as soon as she saw the spot on the floor where this whole mess had started, she abandoned sobbing and went straight into full-on crying.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, sitting on the table in-between them.

"I kissed him… Draco. A lot."

Harry's jaw wanted to drop but it just hovered, separating one lip from the other. "Draco Malfoy? The Slytherin son-of-a-bitch! Wait… _you_ kissed _him_?"

"Harry, you're not making me feel better, darling."

"What did you mean 'with which one'?"

She stopped sobbing and looked up at Harry's bewildering green eyes. "Ron saw us."

Harry opened his eyes wide. In shock or disappointment, she didn't know. He stood up and turned away.

"Hermione, you know how he feels about you."

"No I don't! Ron has never so much as said a word to me that wasn't being yelled or insulting or ends with him begging me to help him in his schoolwork!"

"But you knew. You know he's not good at expressing himself but he'd kill for you."

"Yeah that's what I'm afraid of."

"And Malfoy's always been…"

"A complete asshole. Yes, I know. But it's different when it's just us. He's so funny and caring and we have the strangest conversations about… well I won't go into what about. But he's different."

"Damn, Hermione. Your choices suck," Harry said bluntly. She laughed in-between a sob and looked away. He conjured up some tissue paper and handed it to her kindly. "You know I'll always be behind you no matter who you pick so…"

But she didn't let him finish. She just hugged him and cried on his shoulder.

The portrait swung open again and Ron came in saying, "Harry, did you find your scarf--" and freezing when he saw Harry and Hermione hugging.

"Are you freakin' kidding me? Him too?" he yelled and the portrait swung shut behind him.

"Don't be daft, Ron! Can't you see she's upset?" Harry said, standing up.

"What? Is Malfoy not working out for you?" he said darkly.

"You're an idiot, Ron," she said almost calmly, wanting to scream on the inside. "You're a total idiot."

And she ran up to the dormitory, tossing the teary tissue at him.

----

The following night, it was nearly 8:00 and was still ravaging her trunk for something slinky to wear. She had nothing really enticing except a burgundy-red, strapped, knee-length thing that made her hips look enormous. She took out her wand and made a snip here and there and soon the dress her mother had given her was something elegant yet beguiling.

She straightened her hair and felt it looked flat and dull. So she curled it and added some lip-reddening charms so it wouldn't go away after anything Draco might be planning. The thought brought a smile to her face, and for a moment, she forgot Ron and the guilt of falling for something forbidden.

She grabbed a purse and figured she had nothing to put in it so she threw it back on her bed and jumped down. "Where are _you_ off to?" asked one of the girls. She hadn't realized that the entire Gryffindor house was gathered in the common room around this time. And worse, Ron and Harry sat in a corner looking over at her with sad and bewildered looks.

"I've got a date," she responded somewhat proudly and walked to the door in red heels and her head held high, trying to avoid the wolf whistles and the stares.

As soon as the portrait swung behind her, she looked to the hallway and saw a single figure coming towards her dressed in black with blonde hair down to his ears and pale skin. From a mile away, she could tell that was Draco. The smirk as he approached confirmed it.

He looked her over, his hands behind his back. "You look…" and he left it off there, grabbing her hand and spinning her slowly, scanning her head to toe. She smiled shyly and looked down. "No, no. Don't ever look down. Not when you look like this."

And they set off.

----

She wasn't sure what was so different about Hogsmeade. Maybe it was the desolate air of the cold night street.

"Draco, where is everyone? I thought this was a party?" she asked.

"It's more of an exclusive party. Hope you don't mind a small walk," he said, taking her hand and pulling her down an alley.

She looked down at her shoes and sighed. He smiled. It made the sigh melt away into a responding smile. She looked around but there was nothing there. And then she thought of Diagon Alley with its strange ways and the first time she'd seen it open its walls to her. Surely enough, Draco took out his wand, tapped the wall lightly, and put it back in his pocket. A brick opened up and music seeped through.

"Password?" an annoyed voice said.

"Piccadilly," Draco responded and the whole wall opened up for them. Then he smiled at her and said, "Welcome to the Spyder Club, dear."

And he led her inside.

The place was a bar, one Draco was most popular at as far as she could tell by all the greetings. One gnome actually bowed but Draco didn't notice. Hermione shot the gnome a smile and a small bow but Draco was dragging her off to a private little corner with a comfy overstuffed sofa emanating from the walls with a small round table floating in front of it.

"Two apple martinis please," he ordered.

"Why apple martinis?" Hermione asked, curious as to why he didn't let her ask for herself. She sat down and looked at the dancers. They seemed so enthused in their romantic swaying, every touch a long caress.

"It's green. I like green," he said with a smile as he saw her looking at the dancers and leaned back, facing her. "Relax, Hermione. Come, dance with me."

She didn't really know what to say. She looked at him and gulped. "Sure," she said in a quiet voice and he took her to the dance floor.

She felt evil eyes upon her all over the club but as soon as he put his hand on the small of her back and drew her in, her own arms went behind his neck and she felt the magic the others around her were feeling. Each touch lasted… forever.

There was music playing but she didn't care, nor would remember the song. Just his smell: soap and fresh night air. They were so close, almost every inch melting together. She felt as if her feet barely moved, simply shifted her weight from side to side. And from time to time, Draco would pull a spin or sway twice in one direction and quickly turn them around.

He looked over and saw their martinis waiting on the table. She had closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest as they danced. "Care to go back to our drinks?" he whispered in her ear… so close to her ear. His voice reverberated throughout her spine. She smiled and nodded against his chest. He kissed her forehead lightly and they walked back to the table. As soon as she stepped off that floor, the magic of their touch went away and she longed for it. So much.

They sat down and faced each other, smile to smile. "How are you enjoying it so--"

"It's been lovely," she interrupted quickly, swirling the martini in front of her. It did have the most charming green color. Somehow, after her last drinking experience, she wasn't really up for it and set it back down on the little table. He didn't seem to care.

He rested his head on the sofa and looked at her with tired eyes, caressing the hair back from her face with a gentle hand. "Are you tired?" she asked.

"It was a long day. Lots of Quidditch practice," he said. "But you make me forget it all."

"Hmm. Yes, I had a long day as well. Some friends of mine aren't really happy with me being here."

"You mean Potter and the Weasley boy?" he said with a dismissive tone.

"Harry and Ron," she corrected sternly. "Yea, Ron saw us yesterday by the lake. We sort of had a bash about it."

"Why should _he_ care?"

"I think he… I think he has feelings for me."

Draco scoffed. "That red carpet bag? Wait, you think? He's never told you?"

"Carpet bag?"

"Don't be defensive now. If you felt the same way, you wouldn't be here now."

"That's not necessarily true! And he's a good friend of mine, has been for many years. Don't go calling him things."

"Hermione, you know I've never gotten along with them, either of them. You can't honestly expect me to change my opinion of them just because we've hung out a few times."

"I'm not asking you to! I'm just saying not to bash them in front of me!" She realized she was yelling. Some of the dancers had begun to look their way.

"No matter, ok? Just forget I said anything!"

"This was a mistake. Take me home, Draco," she said reluctantly.

"What are you talking about? Don't tell me Weasley got to you?"

"Draco, please," she said calmly. "We shouldn't be here."

Her sad eyes made him look away and nod. He got up and extended a hand for her to get up. She gave him an apologetic smile and took his hand. He signaled the bartender who gave him a nod and he walked right out without even paying. It seemed after one got rich, they seldom paid anymore.

They walked by the lake some time later, arms around each other rather comfortably. It was cold and she was freezing but it didn't seem to matter. He was so warm.

And then she heard it.

"Hermione!" a voice called from above. Ron dropped down off his broom in front of them. The smell of liquor radiated off him. Even at his wobbly landing, she could tell he'd been having more of that blue butterbeer.

"Weasley, you're drunk," Draco said.

"Well thank you Captain Obvious," Ron slurred back. "Come on Hermione."

"I'm walking her home, Weasley, as you can plainly see. Why don't you wobble onto your broom and fly home?"

Hermione was looking at both of them with fear. She still hadn't pulled away from Draco. She didn't want to but she was hiding behind him almost. She didn't like it when Ron drank. It scared her.

"Ron, please. For me."

"Yeah like that means a whole hell of a lot right now," he answered and went to pull her away but Draco got in the way and threw the first punch. Ron immediately ran back to punch him and it turned into a brawl at the lakeside. Hermione screamed for them to stop but it was pointless. They both yelled for her to get back. She didn't have a wand, a broom, not that she flew. She just stood in horror as the two rolled around on the dirt beating each other senseless.

"STOP!" came Harry's voice, flying down beside her. He handed her her wand and pulled out his own, and they both yelled out, "Stupefy!" and they both froze with Draco on top about to punch Ron right in the face, his fist caught in midair.

Harry sighed and pulled Draco off him. Hermione took the spell of him and held him back, caressing his bleeding lip with a healing hand. Ron tried not to look but each healing touch bore a hole in him.

Harry kept telling him to let it go, to come back to Gryffindor and leave them be. "…she made her choice, Ron!" he finally yelled. This snapped all three of them to attention and they looked at each other. Had she made a choice? _She_ didn't even know.

Draco looked seriously at her tearful face, her make-up smudged and her mascara running. At least her lips still looked red. But she only looked at Ron and Harry. So Draco looked over to them too and said crossly, "Actually, she cut our night a little early. It seems she _did_ make her choice."

She looked over at him with sad, scared eyes, simple as that. A moment ago, she was broken between two. Now she'd hurt both and had no one on her side.

Harry saw her hurt face and said, "I'm gonna let you two talk and go detoxify Ron, alright? Malfoy, can you get her back home?"

Draco nodded seriously and the two saw them fly off wobbly towards the castle. They turned to each other and she tried to hold back the sobs. But when he looked at her, there was nothing breaking down that barrier. He was stern and determined, the Malfoy stare-down.

"So have you? Chosen, I mean," he asked sternly.

"Don't be mad. I didn't know he'd do that."

"I saw the way you looked at him, Hermione! It's the same way I've looked at you every day in Potions," he said and his expression softened. He drew in to her and kissed her cheek. He walked back and turned away, but she looked at herself stranded and pulled him back.

"Don't go," she said. "Draco, please."

"I'm not going to stay around for you to play with me like that."

"I'm not playing with you! There's nothing between me and Ron!"

"Fine! But you still don't want to be with me, Hermione," he said.

She turned around and walked closer to the lake, towards the light of the moon reflected off the water. "You know I do," she whispered.

He went to turn her towards him but her shoe was caught in the soft mud by the lake and she ended up tripping over herself and falling back, pulling him along with her into the cold, muddy water's edge.

She didn't know why but seeing herself butt-deep in mud and high heels beside her once least favorite Slytherin made her want to start laughing and soon he laughed beside her.

"Want to go for a swim?" he asked with his devious smirk.

"Might as well," she said and got up to walk right into the water.

Before she knew it, her legs were wrapped around him in the middle of the lake and his hands seemed to find every curve. When she felt things were getting serious and his hands seemed to find her thigh and wanted to lift up her dress, she pulled away from him.

"Your place or mine?" he asked as if it meant nothing, a simple enticing choice. But choices to her were never that simple.

"Let's just go back to Hogwarts, ok?" she asked. "It's cold. There are all sorts of creatures down here. Just take me home."

He lowered his head in disappointment and started to walk out of the lake after her. How he hated being a gentleman.

----

They stood before the Gryffindor common room and yet Hermione didn't want to go in. "Hermione, you have to sleep sometime. Unless…"

"Yes, I want to go to sleep. But I… I know they're waiting for me. I can't…"

"Why don't we go to Slytherin and we can talk in the common room for a while, wait till they're asleep."

She sighed and nodded. Something didn't feel right. She didn't want him to touch her, not because she didn't love his every touch but the thought that anyone could turn the corner and their midnight swim might turn into public knowledge sent her stomach aflutter.

She looked into his eyes with deep frustration, the coffee table in-between them. It was hard to see under the shadows of the wet stands of silver hair draping his eyes, but the gray of them shone through like beacons of remorse. He looked down at the floor between his legs, leaning his arms forward onto his knees.

She surveyed the way his broad shoulders fell forward in exhaustion, the way the gentle curves of his muscles were lined by his wet, white, long-sleeve shirt. His black trousers, all that was left of his robes, were dripping lake water onto the comfy armchair and down onto the carpeted floor. That's when he looked up from the puddle on the floor to her side of the coffee table with such melancholy eyes that made her frustration turn into a simple whimper.

He looked up and saw her looking at him with angry eyes, her curls blended into her dark hair by the light from the fireplace. Her brown eyes shone through the darkness like firebugs in glittering shadows. She sat as he, leaning forward onto her knees. She was dressed in that red silk gown he had loved to caress as they'd slowly moved from side to side mere hours ago. He wished to hold her again, despite all that had happened, all the rancor. He looked away, wishing he'd think of the trials they'd just suffered rather than of kissing her, rather than wishing he were making love to her right there and then. He shifted in his chair, and started to bounce his leg with anxiousness. Water flew off him like a dog.

Her eyes narrowed. Lake water flowed from her hair over her face. It was hard to tell from actual tears, but her puffy eyes told him it hurt her more than she cared to admit.

"Well… What have you to say for yourself?" she asked with a slightly trembling voice, small almost in the distance of the coffee table.

When he looked back to her, she looked to the fireplace and rested back on the armchair. His eyes told her his answer, even if he could never fall from his own grace.

He looked down again, the image of his hand slowly caressing the small of her back, drawing her in to the music, to him.

"You must be freezing. Here," he said, handing her the fireside blanket on the empty chair beside him. She was trembling but didn't look up.

The silence returned and he could bare it no more.

He threw the blanket to the fire and she jumped up as it burst into flames. _"Are you mad?"_ she hissed at him.

He only moved the table quick as lightning, sliding it ever closer to the fire and walked to her, aggressiveness in his every sudden step. He pulled her in with a strong arm behind her, looking down into her eyes in what she thought was anger, only to turn into a silent apology that had her breath melt as it left her.

As he drew in to kiss her, she wished she'd resisted but her body told her otherwise and soon, the gentle kiss had turned into a ravaging experience to see how quickly she could fumble the buttons on his shirt.

He had already begun to move their kiss from her lips to her cheek and down into her neck, slowly moving the thin red straps of her dress down her arm as he made his way to her chest.

His shirt was off and her hands trembled as he moved his hands down from her shoulders onto both hips, gripping at the wet, slippery fabric and pulling it slowly and fearlessly over her head.

_Why is he so confident?_ she thought as he laid her down onto the sofa. It wasn't that she hadn't been in such a position before but not with him, and never had she felt so many reservations.

He felt her hold back; her eyes closed shut and she had turned stiff. He lifted himself up onto his hands, looking down over her. Her hands had given up on unbuckling his trousers and had fallen over the side of the sofa.

He quickly looked her over, trying not to focus so much on her lacy black underwear. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

She shook her head no with a stifled grin. There was nowhere to look away from him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered with an apologetic face. "I don't think we're ready."

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course, it's fine. If you're not ready, I completely understand," he responded slightly taken aback.

He started to step off their intertwined legs and off her when she said, "Well it's more like you're not ready, actually."

His foot slipped on the wet carpet and with a surprised face, he took one last look at her before he slipped head first onto the floor.

She quickly turned onto her stomach to see if he was alright. He'd missed the coffee table at least.

"Um, love, care to rephrase?" he muffled through the floor. "Because I assure you, I'm ready."

She smiled slightly and leaned her head against her left hand on the sofa pillow. The tassels had begun to dig into her bare back anyway.

"You're hopped up on adrenaline, Draco. You're not even thinking what this means. If you really cared about me, you'd tear that photo in pieces."

"Hermione, be fair. Do you know what I'm going to have to do if Slytherin doesn't get it?"

"Don't you care what people will think of me? Of us?'

"Is that what you're worried about? That people will find out about us?"

"No, Draco... yeah. I'm not ready for them to find out."

"Why? Admit it. You're not sure about us. You have doubts. That's why you stopped. Not because of any damned photograph."

She sniffed and looked away. "I don't know. Maybe... yes."

"That's just it, Hermione! I saw you look at Weasley and Potter. You didn't defend us. We're not anything, are we? You know what? I'm being forceful. I'll get off your back about this. I don't think Slytherin will take kindly to us either, now that I think about it."

She caressed his cheek with her right hand and smiled sweetly. He kissed her hand before getting up onto his feet and making his way to his wet shirt, snatching it from the floor quickly and slipping it on, facing away from her.

"Draco…" she said with a devious smirk. He turned around and saw her in her lacy black underwear lying back onto her elbows on the sofa with her bare ankles crossed, playing with a curl of dark hair and looking at him expectantly. The fireplace was about to set the table and carpet on fire but he didn't seem to care. "What are you doing all the way over there?" she toyed, outstretching a graceful hand for him.

It took him a moment of blank thought before ripping his shirt and shoes off and running back towards her, slipping on the floor again and falling on his back beside her, a foot landing desperately close to the fireplace.

He closed his eyes and shook his head on the floor in disbelief. "Not again," he whispered to himself, but he heard her laugh on the sofa above him and opened his eyes to find she was already down on top of him, straddling him on her knees. He caressed her cheek with a smile, bringing her in for a kiss.

"Woops," she said playfully, pretending to slip on the carpet as well and landing ever closer on top of him on the floor. She pushed a few messy strands of hair off his forehead and kissed him sweetly. As she broke off to undo his pants, he pushed the table away from them so he could turn over on top of her but she had succeed in unbuckling his pants and was already moving a gentle, cold hand up his chest and he had pulled her down for another kiss so fierce that as their tongues met, she felt a chill run up her spine, making her chest warmer to the touch.

Their legs a fumbled mess, he had begun to undo the back of her bra when he heard the sound of laughing students and doors opening in the distance. He heard her squeal and looked to see her close her eyes shut and as she opened them, they glowed like a white fire seemed to flow from them as she looked down on him with worry.

The two students came in and gasps began to fly alongside whispers. Draco went red but she just looked down at him and smiled. "Who could have done this to our furniture? It's a mess!" he heard Crabbe shout in the distance. He looked back at Hermione and saw the fire in her eyes had dissipated and felt her chest upon him heave slightly as she sighed with relief. It was just Crabbe and Goyle coming back from who knows where. As the two approached them on the floor, their eyes opened wide.

----

**REVIEW! **


	3. Lovers' Quarrel

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART THREE

----

"What the hell is going on here?" yelled Goyle, holding onto his heart with fat hands. Crabbe started chuckling lightly to himself. Hermione hurried to cover herself as Draco laughed at Crabbe and Goyle's distraught faces.

"Would you two turn around?" Draco yelled. They quickly jumped around.

"I can't believe he did it. He got the Mudblood into bed!" Goyle laughed.

Hermione stopped slipping on her dress and looked at Draco. He looked away guiltily. She wanted to cry but refrained, the anger rising to redden her ears. Draco knew he'd screwed it up for sure.

"The bet, wasn't it? That was this whole night," she said in a small voice that only he seemed to hear.

"No! Don't worry, Hermione. It's only Crabbe and Goyle. They won't tell anyone!"

"Oh yes we will," chuckled Crabbe. Draco shot him an evil look and he gulped.

"I can't believe I didn't believe Ron and Harry. I thought you'd changed. But you and these two will always be scum. I hope you're happy, Malfoy," she said, dripping disdain on his last name, and headed to the entrance and out of his life.

Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle with sinister looks. They still laughed. He took out his wand and made them toads then walked to get his shirt and back towards the boys' dormitory.

The next morning, Crabbe and Goyle still jumped around the Slytherin common room when the others came down for breakfast. They were nearly squashed but in the small mob, nobody noticed the destroyed coffee table or the burn marks on the carpet or the ruined chairs.

The Great Hall seemed to be full of chatter today. Did they know what nearly happened? Draco didn't even reach the entrance before Ron and Harry pushed him back out into the hall, cornering him against a wall.

"Where the hell is she, Malfoy?" Ron demanded through gritted teeth, a wand at Draco's throat.

"What are you talking about?" he responded.

Harry tried to pull Ron off. "She never made it home. You told me you'd get her home!" he yelled.

Draco turned pale. "She what? No she didn't want to go back to Gryffindor so I took her to Slytherin. We sort of got into a fight and she stormed off. I figured she went back to you two."

Ron eased off a little. "If you're lying, Malfoy, I'll gut you and feed your entrails to the mermaids, understand?"

"If we don't find her, I'll personally make the first incision." They both backed off and Draco straightened his robes. They looked at him through squinted eyes, ready to strike. "Right, where could she have gone?"

Harry looked at him particularly pensively. "What did you two fight about?" he asked.

Draco gulped. "Crabbe and Goyle sort of caught us in the act and she thought I had planned it as part of the bet."

"What act? WHAT BET?"

"The Quarter Moon Gamble."

"The what? Are you telling me the only reason you went out with her was over a bet?" Ron was ready to strike again.

"No! No… well, at first it was… it was how we first kissed. But it wasn't like that at all!"

Now Harry wanted to punch him. "We should tell Dumbledore she's missing. He might get people looking for her."

"I don't know. It seems like… She didn't want anyone to find out about us. I don't want the teachers to know, either."

"Then let's get looking. I'll look for her around Gryffindor Tower. Ron, you can look on the grounds. Malfoy, you can look between Slytherin and here," Harry instructed. Draco would have said something of his leadership but instead his mind just drifted into worry.

_Let her be alright,_ he thought on the way back to Slytherin. _Don't let that have been our last…_

A thump. He was thrown against the wall again in an empty corridor. "What the bloody hell is going on?" Pansy Parkinson yelled. "Why did I see the Mudblood leaving Slytherin last night?"

"Pansy dear, that's none of your business. Besides, you have no claim on me," he said calmly. He knew she wasn't a threat, unlike two testosterone-driven Gryffindors.

She backed off but she was still fuming. "Are you two--?"

"What? Human? Monkeys? Ice blenders?"

"An item! Are you two together?"

He looked straight into her angry, irrational face and sighed, then said…

----

Harry and Ron weren't having much luck. They really didn't know where to look. Then something smacked Ron into realization and he ran to find Harry.

"Harry! Harry, I know how to find her!" he yelled across the corridor. Harry turned around and ran to him. They nearly slid into each other. "The Marauder's Map has to know where she is!"

Harry looked like he was tired of running around. "I already checked Ron. She won't show up anywhere."

"Well maybe we can put a locater spell on the map."

"Ron, you're grasping at invisible straws," Harry said calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got to find her, Harry. I've got to… I've gotta say I'm sorry."

Both returned to Gryffindor tower with glum, downtrodden faces. But as soon as they took a step into the common room, there was Hermione in her usual chair, her legs gathered under her and a book in hand.

"Hermione!" they both called out, running to her. She jumped up in an instant and Ron caught her, hands to her face, and pulled her in to kiss her.

When he pulled away, still riddled with glee, she turned her head to the rest of the busy common room, all staring at her with unspoken shock written all over their wide open eyes. She gulped and gave a small whimper.

"Uh… we thought something had happened to you. We were about to decapitate Malfoy!" Harry broke in as Ron and Hermione just stared at each other, frozen in the aftereffects of Ron's hash reaction.

She snapped out of it and looked back to Harry. "Dumbledore wanted to talk to me. I've been in his office."

"But we did a locator spell!" Ron said.

"Ron, I've seen your locator spells. Half work by accident. And they wouldn't work if I were in Dumbledore's. The gargoyles protect it or something. And what was this about decapitating Draco?" she asked.

"Well he was supposed to get you home!"

"He is not responsible for me! I am!"

"Well he's looking for you right now. I recommend you find him and inform him that we will not be feeding his entrails to the mermaids. I'm sure he'd like to know," Harry said, shooting a look at Ron.

She awkwardly moved between them and ran to the portrait hole. She ran to Slytherin House, ran to find him, ran to see if he was really worried as they'd said. But he wasn't. She found him and Pansy talking against a wall.

"You!" he yelled when he saw her coming down the hallway. He ran to hug her. "Where the hell were you?"

She wanted to dwell in the warmth of his hug but she couldn't help looking at Pansy and her smug look behind him. "Did I interrupt something?" Hermione asked. He broke away and looked back at Pansy's face. "I think she's about to growl, Draco."

"Don't be silly. She only nibbles," he said with a bright smile. "Have the others seen you?"

"Yeah they found me in Gryffindor Tower. I wasn't missing. I was with Dumbledore and McGonagall," she said, looking down.

"Gave us a fright," he said, pushing the hair back from her eyes. It sent a jolt of heat down her spine but still she looked away.

"I just… Just wanted to let you know Ron won't be torturing you for information anymore."

"Oh I don't know. Our conversations were always so enticing," he joked.

"Nor will _I_ be bothering you anymore."

He looked up at her and put a hand to her face, bringing her solemn eyes to his. "That would be… unfortunate," he whispered, coming down to kiss her. She pulled away and looked behind him. Pansy was already gone. "Don't worry about her."

"Why would I worry?" she said, pretending not to notice his gray eyes and smile. It wasn't attraction. It was bloody damn animal heat.

"I took care of Crabbe and Goyle by the way," he said, taking a step back.

She raised an eyebrow. "Draco, what did you do?" she asked sternly.

"Let's just hope none of the Slytherins from France get hungry." Her eyes opened wide. "Don't worry. I'll change them back as soon as they promise to keep their mouths shut."

"So it's ok?"

"Anything that might have happened last night is still just between us," he said slightly cross.

She sighed, but at his expression she began, "Draco, I…"

"Don't bother," he interrupted. "Just glad to see you well. Have a good break then, Hermione."

And he turned and walked calmly out of her view into the endless corridors.

----

"So what did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" Harry asked at dinner, desperately trying to break the silence.

"I can't say, actually. I promised," Hermione responded solemnly, stabbing her food with a fork. Harry wasn't sure if either she or Ron had had anything to eat at all but he wasn't going to get in-between them anymore than he already had.

Ron kept noticing her look across to the Slytherin table. It sent a bullet to his heart each time she glanced at Draco, whom also seemed to detest his food with a passion. He was slumped over and alone. Crabbe and Goyle still hopped on all fours and the other Slytherins had been warned to steer clear of him when he was in a mood.

Ron finally got tired and said quietly, "Hermione, if you really want to be over there, go."

She looked at him with great misgivings. "Where'd that come from?"

"You need to be happy. Just go over. Don't worry about the idiots over here. Just go," he said, still refusing to look away from his food.

"Ron, I…"

"I'll even make it easier. I'll leave," he said and got up roughly and walked out of the Great Hall.

Hermione didn't move. She was left stunned, watching the doors of the Great Hall slam behind him. She looked over at the Slytherin table. Draco had seen him leave and looked back at her. Other had seen him as well and they all awaited her response.

Harry sighed, tired of all these games, and said, "I guess I'll go talk to him. You go with Malfoy."

He went to get up but she put a hand on his shoulder and he saw back down. "I go," she said and ran after him.

Draco saw her go and looked over at Harry who shot him an apologetic smile in return. As soon as the doors slammed shut, the doors of Draco heart opened themselves to pain.

"Ron! Ron, stop!" Hermione yelled, running after him.

He turned around, a face of defeat already scarring itself onto his face. Poor guy hadn't won much in his life. He'd had to share a lot with family. He wouldn't share _her_.

Just when a smile was about to breach his face, she stopped, stuttered random sound and in an act of indecision, slapped him clear across the face.

"_WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING, YOU IDIOT?_" she yelled as he complained in pain. "You wait till I'm finally getting on with my life, finally happy about something, to make me feel guilty? Who does that? I don't belong to you! We were friends! We still are! But you are behaving like a tart!"

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, interrupting her rant loudly. "You don't belong to me, I get it! I waited too long! I lost you! Just leave it alone."

"You didn't let me finish," she yelled back but found herself at a loss of words once again and just when he thought she was going to slap her again, her hands went to his face, bringing him closer to her so she could kiss him.

When they broke apart, Ron was left with a stunned face and eyes so wide he could see for miles. And yet, the female sex remained a mystery. "What the hell was that?" he yelled.

"I couldn't think of anything," she said in a small voice.

And then he saw her reluctant face and looked away. "That was goodbye wasn't it?" he said glumly.

"Ron, I…"

"I know. But you want to be with _him_," he said softly and shot her a small smile. "Don't let anyone tell you it's not ok to love someone. Go on now. I'll see you in Potions then."

She wanted to cry but held back. And just like that, his hand slipped away from hers and he walked out on her too. Seeing him go, something sparked in her. She didn't want to feel glad to have his blessing but she was and she did. So she turned around and went back to the Great Hall, found Goyle's seat beside Draco and joyously sat down.

She didn't care that everyone looked at her, that Harry shot her a look of complete bewilderment, stood up and went to find Ron. All she saw were Draco's gray eyes greeting her with a large smile and a small kiss.

The roof above her bed didn't leak that night.

----

The next day, they had Potions. They sat as usual, though Hermione couldn't help thinking Draco's eyes were on her now more than ever. The day went by like a blur. It had probably been a few hours since lunch but already she missed talking to him. He was like hunger itself. His presence had to be replenished.

The eyes, the stares… she understood what it was for Harry to have to live in the public spotlight. The girls seemed the most interested in their gossip. They'd corner her in the bathroom, in the common room, even sent her notes during class. She was only immune while around him.

Draco was not entirely unaffected either. The Slytherins, while leaving him alone out of fear, had pretty much shunned him from their evil workings. He didn't care much. She was worth it. He rather liked being alone. It was quieter. But he knew they would never agree to him dating beneath him and feared retribution, or worse, someone trying to take over as Slytherin head.

That night, they skipped dinner and went back to the lake, to the same stump. This time, they walked with arms around each other, hand in hand, whatever touch they could get. After being apart all day, it was hard to stay off each other. They were careful to steer clear of each other around Ron. He was good at pretending it didn't bother him. She knew it was hard for him not to wear his heart on his sleeve but their friendship was more important.

But it was so late and she was so tired. She hadn't even realized how close Christmas was. She would have to say goodbye. And then she thought, _What if I didn't have to say goodbye? What if I invited him home with me?_

Before she could even open her mouth, he said, "I know what you're thinking."

She raised an eyebrow. They sat on the ground, leaning against the stump by the lake. "Trust me, you're not."

He smiled and brought her closer to him, so close she rested her head on his chest and felt his heart beat calmly. His hug felt great in the cold night air. It had gotten surprisingly warm for Christmas. Most of the snow had settled on the ground and had started to melt. She knew before school ended, snow would bury Hogwarts again.

"You're thinking of Christmas, aren't you?" he said.

"Hmm. Maybe."

"What do you think we should do?"

"I honestly don't know."

"Well, you know I'd love to invite you over but the Malfoys aren't exactly…"

"I know. It's ok, Draco. You're always welcome over at my place."

"Chez Granger? Really?"

She stopped to think about it. Christmas morning. She'd wake up and find her family's been turned to farm animals because they insisted that Alexander was indeed great (and not gay). Draco would sit at the head of the breakfast table sipping tea and reading a paper while a billy goat, a toucan, and the baboon that was once her fat uncle Gordo all look at her with whimpering eyes.

"Hermione?" his voice snapped her back to reality.

"Yeah sorry, I was just thinking of…"

"What it would mean if I met the folks. After all, we did just start dating."

"Ok you gotta stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Reading my mind!"

He laughed. She punched him lightly in the stomach.

"Alright," he said. "How about we enjoy the time we have now and worry about your family later?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Is that a call?" He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. "For the wild vagina."

He started laughing so hard she had to get off his chest. When he noticed she wasn't laughing, he cleared his throat and reached for her hand on the cold, wet ground. She receded.

"Hermione, we were just kidding, right?"

"What were you talking about with Pansy?"

He straightened up against the stump. "What do you mean?"

"You were talking with her. You hugged me in front of her and she didn't say anything. What does she know? She looked at me like… like she knew something I didn't."

"Yea she knows about us."

"How much does she know?"

"She thinks I'm just with you for the bet."

"Are you?"

"No!"

"Draco, give me the picture."

"You still don't trust me, huh?"

"Draco, in the 5 years I've known you, I've yet to see you do something that would earn my trust."

He looked slightly offended and stood up, looking down at her pensively, as if it had actually hurt. "You're lucky I have no heart, Hermione," he said and started to walk back towards the castle.

She sighed and got up, going after him. "Damn it, Draco! This is the one thing we can't get over! Why can't you just give me the photo?" she yelled after him.

He turned around quickly and grabbed her by the arms. "You are sick, you know that?"

"You're hurting me," she said through gritted teeth.

He pulled her closer. "I'm sick of you toying with us, Hermione. One moment, everything's great! The next, you're biting my head off over the silliest things!"

"Silly?" she yelled back.

He sighed and loosened his grip. "You're teasing me, Hermione. And it's cruel."

"Don't change the subject. It's not about us! It's about the photograph!"

"Fine!" he said and from his robes, he pulled the photo of her and Harry and Ron that he had ripped and handed it to her roughly. She saw it and held it against her chest. "It was in one of your books."

And he walked away, again. She was getting tired of herself too. _Damn it, why do I have to overthink everything_, she thought.

----

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	4. A Bet Fulfilled?

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART FOUR

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Two days before the next quarter moon and a week before Christmas, Hermione was packing when she realized Draco still had several of her books. She had gone to get them from him before, several times. Somehow, she always ended up distracted. She knew he had them. But she tried to convince herself she didn't need them, didn't need _him_. Now she had grown desperate. She needed him to talk to her, a simple word in his ear.

His voice when he spoke whispering in her ear, the way he stared at her with cold gray eyes that made her blush and turn away, his smile a devilish taunt at her desire…

She slammed shut her trunk and stormed out of Gryffindor, trying to convince herself she wasn't running to him all the while. But before she could even find the stairs, Harry came running towards her gleefully. "Come on, Hermione! We won the first game against Slytherin!"

Her eyes showed slight defeat and she refused to move, even as Harry tugged at her sleeve for them to celebrate back at the common room. Her mind drifted elsewhere, to Slytherin. She didn't feel any allegiance to them. She couldn't care less that they lost. Instead, her thoughts went to Draco. He'd be angry, most likely. Now was not the best time to speak with him of such silly things.

But Harry noticed her reluctance, her absent eyes. He looked to where she was headed and smiled to himself, letting go of her sleeve and saying, "You know I think the Slytherins are still in the locker room. He wasn't on his best game today. Something was bothering him. Feel like taking care of that?"

Hermione smiled back and gave him a kiss on the cheek before running for the Quidditch field.

She knew she probably wouldn't be allowed inside the pitch but she had to at least try. She had to get this off her conscience. Her mind kept replaying how she was going to tell him, but everything seemed so stupid. Her heart beat like a rumba dance, an ugly one with Hungarian horntails in goofy red dresses stomping around in her darkest atriums.

Before she could snap out of her demented fantasy, she was stopped by a group of sinister looking Slytherins just outside the bleachers of the stadium.

"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood. Lost, are you?" one of them said. She didn't care who. She was too busy looking to see if Draco was among them but he wasn't. Her breathing turned shallow, her shivering, bare hand instinctively going for her wand.

"Let me by," she said through gritted teeth, looking them straight in the eye.

"You're the reason we lost, you know?" another one said in the back.

"It's not my fault you couldn't pass a quaffle to save your life," she scoffed. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to patronize the scary Slytherins trying to eat her alive.

A tall blonde in the front narrowed his eyes at her and moved closer. She didn't run away, didn't retreat… simply stiffened. He was so close to her, looking down at her with menacing eyes. She knew her hand was shaking around her wand as she brought it up slowly. She didn't know if the rest of her was shaking as well, but her fear was suppressed in every pore.

"Leave her!" a voice came from behind the group of Slytherins. They all parted for a figure in a dark hood and Quidditch-wear holding a broom. Hermione's eyes were still cornered by the tall blonde's and didn't see who the figure was, merely heard a whispering coming closer, like chanting.

Fear crept like a shadow into the blonde's eyes and he gulped, and in a single step, moved aside for the dark figure to reach her. "Draco…" she heard herself murmur breathlessly. And then the figure smiled and lifted its hood, revealing a lush head of flaxen hair. She felt her lungs empty but refused to breathe. Somehow, it felt so relieving.

"One of these days, you're going to get yourself killed and I'm not going to be there," Draco said, concerned.

She sighed greatly and whispered, "You son of a bitch."

"Now, now… Come on," he said and slipped his hand in hers and led into the Quidditch field, right to the center. He mounted his broom and extended his hand for her to retake and mount beside him. But she didn't. She merely stared at him, her hands by her side.

"What did you do to them? What did you say?"

"Nothing for you to worry yourself with, darling."

"That's why you didn't care if people knew about us. You have the Slytherins in your pocket. Draco, that's Dark magic!" He smirked and she gasped, stepping back. "I knew it!"

"Hermione, can it be Dark if I use it for good?"

She didn't say anything, merely looked at him crossly.

"Come with me," he whispered, drawing closer to her. His eyes pleaded for her to come to him. She wondered if she had been under his spell too. Could he really read her mind?

"No," she said reluctantly.

"Hermione…" he began but she raised a hand and cut him off.

"No, I don't like to fly," she finished.

He smiled and extended his hand again, his gaze reassuring. She looked back, to where or why she didn't know, and took his hand, mounting behind him.

"Go slow," she whispered in his ear. He smirked and pushed off. "Where are we going?"

Her hands slid around his stomach and gripped as her feet left the ground. He could have sworn he heard a whimper from her direction but he just smiled to himself and sped up, her grip tightening. The harder she pulled them together, the more he smelled her hair… the more he remembered late-night swims and kisses in the common room.

_Dear God, let me think of nuns. Nuns, peas, really horrible wallpaper,_ he thought. _Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts…_

Hermione felt him tense up and loosened her grip, smirking against his back. One of the hands he was using to grip the broom came to the one of hers on his waist and she blushed. Before she knew it, they had caught the sunset. Owls seemed to want to bombard them en masse and she shrieked as one flew by her arm.

"Draco! Where are we going?" she yelled. But they had landed and she was standing beside him. "The aviary?"

He nodded.

"Are we sending a letter?"

He gave a sharp laugh. "No, darling. Tell me: Why do wizards use owls and not pigeons?"

She knew why but decided to enlighten him and shrugged. He smiled and pointed out into the sunset. Flying towards them, among all the hooting owls, flew a pigeon, a white/gray pigeon that landed on Draco's arm. Its lines seemed so graceful compared to the pudgy, feathery owls.

She caressed its head lightly and smiled up at Draco. "You use a pigeon?" she asked disbelievingly.

"No, don't be silly. I sent this to _you_. My father sent one to my mother their final year, so she'd know it was from him. Now they haven't had the greatest marriage. I blame mostly my father. But once, they had romance, and I've grown to think even a moment of romance erases everything else," he said, taking the note caringly from the pigeon's leg and setting it down on one of the owl poles. He unrolled it and Hermione gasped as she saw what it was: she and Draco kneeling on the floor of the Gryffindor common room with her hands upon his face, his upon her waist, and they were kissing… vigorously.

"The photograph?" she asked. "You were sending it to me?"

"I never meant to turn it in, Hermione."

There was a pause for thoughtful silence, all except the gentle rustling of wings around them. "I… I was…" she began.

"Don't worry. I'll leave you be, if you wish. I just thought you should have that. I couldn't keep it… it'd just-" he interrupted but cut himself off and looked away, his hair covering his eyes.

"Would you stop?" she said in a small voice. "I know you're just doing this to get back with me. And you don't have to."

He looked at her trembling hands holding the photograph. "Oh no, Hermione, are you crying?"

"I came… I came to tell you…"

"No, I don't want to hear it."

"Do I have to smack you across the face to get you to listen?" she yelled. He raised an eyebrow. "I came to tell you I'm sorry… for being afraid."

He moved closer to her and lifted her chin to face him. A tear had escaped her, she felt, and fell upon his hand. He gave a slight shiver.

"I missed you," he whispered as he did so smoothly, going to kiss her neck. But he shivered again.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"Let's just say Angelina is a bit too handy with a bat," he groaned and moved away from her, stumbling backwards onto two stacked crates of old mail. She helped him sit down slightly and began to open his robes. "You know, this would be an extremely sexy situation if I wasn't bleeding internally."

She smiled but didn't look up at him. She could feel his eyes upon her, looking her over as he did with desire. No one had ever looked at her like that, not Ron, definitely not Harry, not even Viktor Krum. "We'll have to come back when you're better, then."

He smiled even brighter but it was soon followed by a sharp pain. Hermione had found his injury. "Help me to the infirmary, love?"

She nodded and helped him up. He had to lean on her a bit until they mounted his broom and swaggered towards the castle.

A few minutes later, Hermione entered the infirmary to find Draco without a shirt on, sitting on one of the bed with a large white bandage wrapped around his torso. Madame Pomfrey came from out of no where screaming, "Well you would have lasted longer if someone hadn't squeezed the life out of you! Seriously, what were you playing, Mr. Malfoy?"

Hermione smiled. "My fault," she said from behind the frantic nurse.

Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at the two. "Kinky little rugrats, aren't you?"

Draco started laughing so hard, he fell back on the bed, his feet dangling joyously off the side. Pomfrey looked to Hermione for an explanation but she just shrugged.

"I'll leave you then," she said and left.

Hermione sat on the bed beside Draco as he straightened up painfully. "See what you do to me?" he said, holding his side.

"Oh stop acting! I know it doesn't hurt anymore."

"Hmm."

She shifted in her seat, playing with the hem of her skirt. "Draco," she said timidly, looking away. "The Slytherins… the ones that found me outside the Quidditch field, they knew about us."

Draco gulped silently. "What do you mean?"

"One of them said it was my fault you lost. What did he mean? How much do they know?"

Draco looked away, his smile fading as quickly as it came. "God, Hermione, you couldn't let it be, could you?" he said.

"What you did to them, are you doing it to me?" she insisted.

"No, I could never!" he began. "Hermione, I'm doing that to them because of what you're doing to _me_! I can't stop thinking of you! I turned my back on my father for you, on my house!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're immune! Why are you immune?" he yelled.

"Immune to what?" she yelled back.

"To me! Every other girl in the school has a certain affection, a certain attraction to me… biologically. Why don't you? I had to know if it was you."

"Draco," she said, slightly scared. "You're mad, do you know this?"

"I'm Veela, Hermione," he said, taking her hands in his.

Hermione started what looked like hyperventilating. "You… son… of… a… bitch!" she yelled in-between gasps, trying to get away but he held her hands to his.

"Would you calm down?"

"And the bet? How did it come in?"

"The Quarter Moon Gamble. It was to get you to me, bind you. I had to know if you loved me!"

"You orchestrated all that? You made me worry! You made me think they could kill you over a bloody damn photograph!" Hermione said at the top of her lungs, her voice becoming squeaky. "Wait, what you mean I'm immune? How can I be immune?"

"There's one. Only one immune to my… charms. She's my mate."

Hermione furrowed her brow and whimpered. "What like 'care for some chips, mate' or 'animal instinct, ravaging hormones, only one for me' mate?"

"Second one."

"Oh bloody hell."

Madame Pomfrey had come back just in time to see Hermione pull away, stand up, and run past her so quickly she only saw a flash in black robes run past her. She turned to Draco and said, "What was that all about?"

"She found out," he said, looking at nowhere in particular, lost in his thoughts.

"Hmm. Perhaps it's for the best. Everything's out. No secrets," she said. "Why don't you go after her?"

"Let's give her some time. If I know her, she'll be heading for the library, researching," he said with an absentminded sigh.

"And if I know women, she'll be waiting for you to go after her."

Draco furrowed his brow and looked up at the nurse. "Hmm," he said and got up off the bed, reaching for his robes and putting them on as he walked calmly yet solemnly down to the Slytherin common room. He looked to his hands. He could still feel her warmth upon him. Everywhere she touched, her perfume lingered faintly. He felt saturated by it, but still he let her breathe.

The next morning, she wasn't at breakfast. Draco looked over at the Gryffindor table and Harry and Ron were looking at him so crossly, he thought he saw a static bolt would shoot out of their eyes and smack him across the head. He shrugged, gesturing he didn't know where she was. And then it hit him. She was probably still in the library.

He got up from his seat and ran out of the Great Hall. He skidded into the library and ran to the table in the back. "I'm sorry!" he yelled, walking through the stands of books trying to find her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

But no one responded. When he got to the table in the back, he couldn't even see Hermione. She was buried behind stacks of books, asleep on the table. He sighed and went to wake her up. He wondered how he knew exactly where she was but he left it to their 'connection.'

"Hermione, wake up dear," he said, poking her. He wasn't really sure how to wake her up without something being bitten off.

She didn't open her eyes, just said groggily, "Draco, I'm not in the mood to talk to you right now."

"Yes, I know dear but we've Potions in a bit and you still haven't had breakfast."

"Are you daft? It's midnight."

"Hermione, it's 10 AM."

Her head shot up so quickly he only saw a blur of brown fuzz leave the table and now large owl eyes stared at him, wide open in fear and shock. "But… but we've Potions."

"You see my point."

She started whimpering. "You're good." He took his wand out and made her a muffin out of this air. "How'd you know I liked blueberry?"

He smirked. "I just know. Actually I was just thinking how nice a blueberry muffin would be but since I hate blueberry, I think that's what _you_ were thinking."

"So you _can_ hear my thoughts?"

"I know what you're feeling. I don't know about thoughts."

"Oh God, I'm gonna need a minute," she said and sat down in her chair. He pulled a chair from the table next to her, also ridden with books, and pulled it facing her. "How long have you known I was your mate?"

"Since summer when I started having strange nightmares, I knew I had found you. I didn't know it was you, per se, until I saw you on the train first day of school. I could smell you from across the room. Like flowers," he said with a gentle smile.

"Why the ruse?" she asked softly.

"I needed to know if you loved me, if I could make you love me… without magic, without crazy Veela hormones…"

"And have you, found the answer you needed I mean."

"You tell me. I wouldn't have told you the truth unless I thought even a small part of you loved me."

She looked down sadly. "I have no choice, do I? I'm bound to you. I can never have anyone else without killing you."

"See what I was trying to do with the bet?"

"Oh God, the bet! Today's the Quarter Moon!" she yelled, going to stand up.

He shushed her and smiled. "It's fine. I found a small loophole. It's not gonna kill me, but it'll definitely feel like it." She put a hand on his arm, her eyes concerned. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get a kick out of it."

She gave a small whimper and took her hand away, hiding her face in both hands and bending forward until she was resting on her knees. "I can't believe you'd go as far as getting yourself killed to find out if I loved you."

"Well if you didn't, I might as well be dead."

"Drama queen," she scoffed and raised her head from her lap.

He laughed and kissed her quickly, then got up and sighed. "Go on. Potter and Weasley were worried. I think you should go say 'Hi, I'm alive' while I go get ready for the bet."

She raised an eyebrow but nodded. He let go of her hand reluctantly and began to walk off when he turned around and said, "You know, I still don't know if this… punishment is worth is."

She furrowed her brow. "I don't know if I can answer that yet."

"Hmm. Doesn't matter, does it? I love you anyways."

He left her with a childish smile on her face, blushing cheeks, and the great desire to kiss him.

----

**Potions class. Day of the Quarter Moon. **

Hermione sat down in her chair in Snape's dungeon and looked around. Draco still wasn't there but he was never one to come on time. He thrived on the attention.

"Have you seen Draco?" she whispered to Harry.

"Not since he went to look for you," Harry whispered back. Snape was already behind his desk, waiting for Draco it seemed. But he didn't come.

20 minutes into class, the doors of the dungeon swung open roughly. Everyone turned around and there he was.

Draco Malfoy. _In nothing but socks. _

He walked proudly up to Snape's desk, smiling brilliantly. Snape stood up quickly and moved back towards the board with wide open eyes.

"Hey Snapey! How's it hanging?" he said in a brash American accent, taking the professor's seat with his bare bottom.

Hermione was left stunned, mouth open, eyes wide.

"Did you know about this?" Ron asked her amid a wave of echoing laughter.

She shook her head slowly.

"Take your seat, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said through gritted teeth. Everyone was surprised at the professor's lack of outrage but he had always loved Draco.

He made his way to the Slytherins, all of whom were roaring with laughter. Even Ron and Harry were gripping their sides. But Draco looked down at her from his seat and winked. Hermione smiled back and blushed as Snape took out his wand, raised his chair in the air and set it on fire. He conjured up a new one and kept on with the lesson. Every time she looked up, she saw Draco smiling down at her, from time to time gesturing he was cold or that Snape had gone crazy.

She wrote two words on a corner of parchment and folded it into a pigeon with her wand before sending the small paper bird his way. When he opened it, he gave a sharp laugh that made those around him stare, still suppressing giggles.

"Nice socks," it said.

**----**

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	5. Red Heels and Crocodile Tears

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** SOME PARTS OF SLIGHTY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT! _The potion mentioned in the latter part of this chapter is actually a metaphor for not letting others in. It's easy to let them in physically but it takes more to share with them the parts of our character we hide behind jokes and fancy poetry. This is for my Draco…_

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**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART FIVE

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Draco stayed behind after class and Hermione waited for him outside as he spoke with the Potions master. His stunt had not gone simply ignored. When he came out, he was fully dressed in his school robes. Hermione was smiling brilliantly.

"So, that was… interesting," she said, suppressing a smirk.

He bowed slightly and said, "My will is to amuse, ma'am."

"It doesn't even bother you being… you know?"

"Naked? For crying out loud, Hermione, if you can say 'wild vagina' you can certainly say naked," he said with an exasperated smile. "And no. It didn't bother me one bit. Except the bloody cold. It _is_ mid-winter. So don't judge."

She had trouble looking him in the eye. Memories seem to flood back of the Potions class. "Oh no, I definitely won't judge. Though I must say, _outstanding_."

He threw his head back with laughter and looked at her elusive eyes. "Don't be silly. I'll get nude any day. There're still a dozen more tasks to do."

"What?"

"Oh yea, didn't you know? It's one task a day for every day until the next quarter phase."

"What's the next one? Wait… do they get increasingly worse?" Hermione asked, stopping in mid-step with worrisome eyes.

"Yeah, some are a bit worse. Not all are as public. The Gamble is meant to be kept private."

"So what's on for tomorrow?" she asked with a flirtatious smile.

"Get a tattoo."

"That's it? What does it have to say? Wait, where is it going to be?"

He started walking again, moving towards the library. He had on another smile. She'd come to see he had several, each for another sly reaction. She wondered how many of those smiles were in earnest. He was too good at hiding his true feelings. She began to think of ways to get through his barriers. Then she realized he hadn't really responded.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked instead.

She had planned to study. For what, she didn't really know. She knew she spent her life studying but her last escapade had left her intoxicated on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. Then again, it had also led to a kiss she'd never forget.

"What have you planned, Mr. Malfoy?" she said.

He sighed a bit sadly. "Something devious, I'm sure."

Something was wrong. "Hey. You ok?" she asked, stopping and putting a caring hand on his shoulder. "How bad is this gonna get?"

"No matter. Don't worry yourself with that. Meet me in front of the Great Hall at 7:00. Dress casual. Bring really comfy shoes. You'll be glad you did."

Hermione nodded but she was still worried. "Draco, no, something's wrong. What is it?"

"You forgot about what I told you in the infirmary."

He was right. She had been trying to ignore it, pretend he hadn't said anything. She didn't want to be mad at him, even though deeply she was. She didn't want to be afraid, even though she knew both were walking into a ridiculous curse.

"I know you looked up if I was lying. I'm not," he continued sadly, looking to his feet.

She wanted to whimper but it was just her inability to control her words. "I know. I didn't want to know, but I did. I think I always knew. It was… easier denying it than admitting I was afraid."

"And? What else did you find?"

"Veelas and humans with strong Veela lineage, while having extreme pheromones that serve to attract humans at a young age, upon reaching maturity they are drawn to a _mate_. This mate is not of their choosing and they will share an undeniable… physical attraction, which will serve handy as Veelas mate for life. Until a mate is found, certain Veelas choose to bind their physical instincts with a stout tea potion used to minimize but not completely suppress their attraction. A mate is often identified by disturbing dreams, which are shared…" she said, her voice beginning to croak into small sobs. "And they are followed by a feeling of presence and the connection will increase until the sheer proximity of Veela and mate is so undeniable that it will begin to cause the Veela severe physical pain. The only way to fully suppress the instinct is to consummate their relationship, at which point they become bonded until death."

He could see how much it was affecting her and hugged her as she began to cry. She hadn't had time to fully understand how dooming it sounded. She didn't realize he'd lived with the knowledge for quite some time. It was a part of him, of his family.

_It must have hurt to have to hide a part of himself_, she thought.

He wanted her to understand that so much but she really couldn't. All she ever had to hide was her magic and for that she had Hogwarts. He had nobody. His own family didn't even support his mate. Christmas would be a bitch.

"Don't cry. It's fine."

"Are you freakin' kidding me? I either sleep with you or I kill you. What kind of choice is THAT?" she yelled, muffled through his chest.

"It's a while before that happens, Hermione. Would you calm down? You don't have to choose anything now. It's a year or so before it hurts. I'd understand if you… if you wanted to get out now and meet other guys."

She felt outraged that he would even suggest it but she didn't show it. It didn't entice her, only worried her. "I know that's probably the smart thing to do but I really don't want to," she said. "I mean I really have no interest in that whatsoever. It's like a switch went off in me and I just feel…"

"Like there's no one else?" he interrupted. She smiled against his chest.

She realized they were hidden behind a large suit of armor near the library and squeaked to herself as they parted. People were walking by. She heard their footsteps and giggles and wanted to melt. But he wasn't worried. He was just looking at her with hungry eyes, eyes that devoured her soul and inhibitions.

"Dear Lord, I've got to get to class," she broke their glance. When he looked away, it seemed his face changed for just a second and he winced at the pain afterwards.

"Damn, that's annoying," he said.

She touched his cheek. "You alright?"

He made a small acknowledging sound and left for the library, his mind in outer space and his eyes anywhere but on her.

-----

By lunchtime, Draco was back to his arrogant though chipper self. Hermione spend almost the entire lunch trying to prod out of him where the tattoo would be, size and color. At one point, he got tired of laughing and whispered in her ear, "Believe me darling, soon I'll let you scour every inch of me if you like. Just drop the bet for a few seconds. It's not doing much for me ego."

She smiled as he broke away. Whenever he spoke to her like that, her mouth watered and her heartbeat quickened. It made her uneasy, jittery around him like his touch might make her crazy. She knew it was the Veela curse but it didn't matter.

She could see he was feeling the same thing, probably worse. She wanted to talk to him about it but there was never the right time. Maybe tonight they might have a chance to talk, she hoped. Last time they'd left Hogwarts, it hadn't ended well.

"Draco, I've been thinking."

"Hermione, if you ever stopped, I'm afraid the world might turn to pudding."

She gave him a dismissive smile and tucked her right foot under her so she could face him. "Christmas," she said forwardly.

"Oh bugger, I knew this was coming."

"How about we stay here, at Hogwarts?" she said with a light twinkle in her eyes. "Just us."

He looked grim again. "I don't know if my father will be happy with that."

"Just tell him you're studying."

"For what, Hermione?" he said with harsh exasperation. "You're the only one that would actually make me study on bloody Christmas. The rest of the world is pretending we don't care for each other."

"Draco, we--" she begun but he immediately interrupted.

"Can we not think about Christmas right now?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled so high that Ron and Harry looked up from their pumpkin juice with startled eyes. The Slytherin table went silent.

He leaned in close again, dismissing everyone's stares. "Would you lower your voice?" he hissed.

Then he looked away and sighed painfully. "Draco?" she asked, forgetting her anger, overridden by worry.

"My father's not exactly happy with me right now. He's threatening to prematurely sever our arrangements."

"What does that mean, arrangements?"

"My family's fortune… he's denying me access to my inheritance."

"Because of me?" she asked in a small and distant voice as if her thoughts were so overwhelming that they clouded just what she was saying.

"Hmm, among other things but he can't do it, not lawfully at least. I'm somewhat worried about the unlawful ways, actually," he said, turning back to look at her. "I'm worried about you, Hermione, more than you know. You don't know what my father is capable of."

"Well it's not like I've ever known his good side. I have some idea."

"Ha! Trying to find any good in him is like lighting a match in a dark abyss."

"I assume one becomes blinded by the match-light reflecting from his teeth. Seriously, have you a phobia for germs or something?"

He laughed lightly but everyone was already beginning to leave back to class. He began to get up and follow but noticed Hermione hadn't moved, simply stared into oblivion. When she noticed his hand on her shoulder, she snapped out of it and hers went instinctively over his.

"Tell me it's going to be ok," she said sadly.

He shivered slightly. He could feel her anguish, just as she could his. She wasn't sure of her own feelings anymore and it felt like slow death. He never answered her question, merely took her hand as he walked her to her next class in thoughtful silence.

-----

That night, Hermione dressed in some jeans, a sweater, and tennis shoes and went to wait for Draco outside, but he was already waiting against his usual spot on the adjacent wall. His smiles were hidden again. He seemed nervous, not worried, as if he were vulnerable somehow. His jitteriness made her smile slightly. He seemed like an innocent little boy. What a lie.

"Hey," he said breathlessly and went to give her a quick kiss on the lips. "Uh, ready?"

"Uh huh," she responded, examining his every nervous jump.

"We have to make a quick pit stop in the kitchen if that's ok. I thought we might have dinner on the roof."

Her eyes opened wide and she pulled her hand away from him. "The roof?"

"It's fine. Don't worry. We won't get caught." His words didn't reassure her much.

They stopped by the kitchen as he'd said and a few elves had a small box for him. She expected a basket or something, not a box. Hermione thanked them and they headed off to the outside of the school, hand in hand, playing a game of Who's Around the Corner? as they passed each section of the castle. It was hard not to giggle.

They got outside and Draco summoned his broom. She mounted, a little less afraid, and he slowly flew them towards one of the taller towers of the castle, one so tall that it wasn't ridden with earthly worry. The sun still hadn't set and the snow was mounting again. It made a soft blanket for them to land and to sit. Wet, but soft.

"I figured we'd be walking somewhere."

"No, you just don't want to get caught on a snowy roof in heels. Believe me, I know." She raised an eyebrow. "No worries. I had an umbrella."

She laughed and asked, "So what's in the box?"

They had lain back in the snow. They weren't properly dressed but the heat between them was enough to deep-fry a turkey. He drew her in so she rested on his arm, against his chest, wherever the hell she wanted really. He didn't answer her question this time either. She could feel when the muscles in his arms tensed with the cold and relaxed as she put her hand on his chest.

"Draco…" she began.

"It's my wand, I swear," he said.

She laughed brilliantly and said, chortled by her labored breathing, "No, I wasn't going to… well now that you mention it… Draco! I meant to say… oh who bloody well cares."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "A few weeks ago, I couldn't imagine ever being like this with you," he said, running his fingertips up and down her arm so lightly that it sent shivers all down the right side of her body.

"Yes well, I still think I'm going to wake up from this screaming." He furrowed his brow. "Don't be silly. I meant that in a nice way."

"Yes because horrific night tremors are always a turn-on."

"Hey, as much as I like this little moment, what the hell are we doing here?"

"Hermione, your romance is lacking."

"Romance? From the boy that nearly took advantage of me when I was half drunk?"

"Well… true, but still. Just look up," he said and she looked away from his dashing smile to the sky as it was slowly overtaken by the warm colors of the oncoming sunset. Owls riddled their view with evening mail, heading to the Great Hall no doubt. Their silhouettes were outlines but a sun in the great distance, now orange and feeble and too tired to fight the shadow of night.

"My God," Hermione whispered. "How did you find this spot?"

"Well remember how we take our bets very seriously? I ended up here after a bachelor party last Easter, I think, dressed in a pink, frilly tank top, a black leather mini-skirt and red heels. I'm not sure how I got up here but I do remember I had the taste of cherry glo lipstick in my mouth for a week and smelled like a cheap prostitute for four," he reminisced. "I'd like to know whose bachelor party it was because frankly, I feel like I should have at least sent him a thank you gift on the smashing party."

"Draco, really! The things you get yourself into. But how did the umbrella come in?"

"I have no clue. I try not to think about that one. It matched my shoes though."

She laughed and hid her face in his chest. The snow around them was melting and her back began to feel wet and stuck to her shirt.

"You cold?" he asked.

"A bit. I'm a tad soaked."

He raised her lips to his and as they touched, he breathed into her a heat that flowed through her bloodstream and seeped out the pores throughout her skin. Their lips remained fixed upon one another and before she could think twice, he was kissing her so passionately that it seemed she had blacked out and when she realized what they were doing, his hand was already on her bare back under her soaked shirt and their legs were intertwined. She was quite sure that wasn't his wand against her leg but she didn't care. Her hands went to his sleek hair and pulled him closer. All his muscles tensed upon her as he rolled on top of her and placed both her arms by the side of her head, moving to kiss her neck.

"Ow!" she yelled as his teeth found her clavicle and traced them to her shoulder.

_Where the hell's my shirt?_ she thought. She looked to the snow next to her and there it was, tossed carelessly.

Her breathing was uncontrollable, working raggedly with the rhythm of his kisses. She wanted to say no. By lord, how she wanted to say no. But her body denied her. She figured he'd stop. He would never take it too far but the muscles in his body had tensed to a point where it hurt him as if his own body was telling him to stop and he couldn't and tore it at him.

"Stop me, Hermione," he breathed as his mouth found the skin above her right lower ribs. It was delightfully ticklish and just a bit painful as he hit bone. "Stop me."

But she didn't. She couldn't. It was painful ecstasy to know it was forbidden, but they couldn't get caught on the roof. Then his hand began to move onto her thigh, lifting her leg beside him and holding her still at the back of the knee as his mouth went to the top button of her jeans.

"STOP!" she managed to yell, loud and long, and he stopped frozen in mid-kiss to her bellybutton. He fell onto his back beside her.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," he said breathlessly.

"So am I… I didn't want you to stop."

"That's not logic, Hermione, and that's not you."

"Trust me love, I damn well know what I feel and it was so… hard to stop. I-"

"You know if we kept going, I wouldn't have been able to stop no matter when you said."

"I wouldn't have said anything, dear. Would you stop worrying about this?"

"This coming from _you_?" he said, turning to look at her. "I don't want to take advantage."

"I'm not a little girl, Draco! I know what I want when I damn well want and if I tell you to kiss me, you're going to damn well kiss me." He gave a small chuckle then began playing with her hair. "Just hold me ok? I can't-- I can't stop my heart."

He hugged her tightly against him, her top still thrown somewhere beside her but it didn't seem to matter. She began to get cold and he wrapped his cloak around the both of them like a sheet on a bed of snow. It was a while before either spoke, just enjoying the beat of each other's hearts as they refused to calm for quite some time. And then the sun had completely vanished and the moon soon took its place and neither noticed.

"Draco… for a moment there, did it _hurt_ you to kiss me?" she asked in a small, distant voice, the reminder of how much she feared her own doubts.

"It always hurts, Hermione. It's like fire killing me from the inside out."

She pushed away slowly. "I repulse you that much?"

"No," he said calmly. "It's like a build-up inside that takes all my energy to stop. Part of me is so blissful when I'm with you. And another part wants to take you the moment you walk into the room. It's being torn apart that hurts. Not you, Hermione. Never you."

She told herself it was the cold and the melting snow, maybe even an errant snowflake that melted as it fell upon her face, but she hurt just enough to shed a single tear for him. "Maybe-- Maybe it'd be easier if you didn't see me anymore."

"No, dear, it'd just kill me."

They spent an hour or two just lying there. It was impossible to tell how long it actually was. Once the night fully converted the sky, it was just cold separating the minutes.

"You hungry?" he said after a while. He looked over to the box and grimaced but she didn't see it, nor cared what was in the box anymore.

"I was. I think I've lost my appetite."

"Let's get you warm, then," he said, not bothering with a snappy comeback.

"I don't want to move."

"Who does, darling? Gravity is a cruel mistress. But we're going to die out here so what do you say we find a fireplace?"

"Hmm," she acknowledged and he began to sit up on the snow. Her heart had finally learned to still itself and just like that, the calm had been pulled from under her. She sat up and covered herself with his cloak as he went to bring her her sweater.

She extended her hand for the sweater but moved both her arms over her head, knelt down in front of her and pulled it over her. She found it a strange but nice gesture. When the sweater finally cleared her eyes, she found Draco staring at her sweetly, caringly.

"What?" she asked, taken aback by his smirk and finding it impossible not to smile back.

"No I was just wondering if this is how you look in the morning. Your hair's everywhere, you skin flushed, your eyes dreamy…" he said and looked away. "It's nice."

She caressed his cheek and turned his vision back to her. "Would it be too terribly painful if I kissed you right now?" she asked, moving closer to him, both on their knees on the old roof floor.

"Devastating," he whispered and their lips met. His hands went to her face but his tongue made no attempt to leave him. And just as easily, he pulled away and they both stood up at the same time, slowly.

He let go a deep sigh and smiled, took her hand and they found themselves on the path back to the castle, not really caring who was around the next corner.

-----

Hermione woke up with her bed flooded by the leaky roof. It had stopped for a few nights as the snow loosened but last night, it had been uncharacteristically cold. Even though she had spent a small portion of it outside, she had hardly felt it as much as she felt it that morning in her soaking wet sheets.

It was a Friday and she had arithmency first with Draco. The thought alone made her smile. She hurried to breakfast but she knew he wasn't there the moment she walked into the Great Hall. So she headed to find Ron and Harry at their usual spots. Neither were all too happy to see her but they greeted her with reluctant smiles nonetheless.

"'Morning, guys!" she said in a chipper tone, attacking the first piece of food she could see, forgetting utensils and table manners all in one shot. She'd never gotten to see what was in the box. Perhaps, it hadn't been for her _or_ them.

"Hey," they both responded, sharing a look of worry.

"Where's the devil incarnate?" Ron asked with less distaste in his tone than usual.

"Off getting a tattoo, I'm sure," she said dismissingly. The boys thought she was joking and didn't think much of it until she said, "He still hasn't told me where, or what. I have a few ideas though."

Harry laughed. Ron looked at his pie. "I still can't believe the stunt he pulled yesterday in Potions," said Harry with a chuckle.

"It wasn't a stunt. He lost the bet," she said with a mouthful of toast. "Or rather he gave it up… for me."

Ron looked away from his pie and stared at her for a moment. She didn't seem to notice. Harry was a bit concerned about what Ron would say, but he said nothing.

"How are things going with him?" Harry asked softly, concern in his voice.

Hermione stopped to think of the previous night and smiled to herself. "You know, the usual," she said but stopped as she saw Harry's face remained unchanged. "It's actually pretty wonderful. Thanks for asking," she responded sincerely.

"Do me a favor?" Ron finally spoke. "Be careful, ok? I know we can trust you to make a good decision but sometimes smarts get beaten over the head with a mallet. Promise me, ok?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. She wasn't happy at the knowledge that she caused her friend pain let alone worry. "I promise, Ron. But he can never hurt me, not… For crying out loud, it hurts him to touch me."

"What?" asked Harry.

She pulled them in so she could whisper without anyone hearing. "He's -- part Veela, like Fleur was. They mate with a single partner their entire lives. Once they reach puberty, the curse takes over and their primal instincts automatically find the most viable match and well… I'm his mate," she said, rather reluctant to share it with them but still. "Once a mate is found, to hurt me would cause pain unto him. For me to die would kill him too."

Ron's eyes became abnormally large. Harry raised a disbelieving eye. He hadn't grown up in the magic community like Ron had, who had heard many a story of mates and Veelas and warnings never to mix with one and its mate. Even the law protected them.

"Oh God, Hermione, I had no idea," Ron said in-between small gasps.

"He only found out a little while ago. He used the bet to find out if it was really me and to get close to me. Something about finding out if I loved him before the Veela instinct hits me too."

"You mean you two--?" Harry began.

"No! Not yet. Eventually it's gonna kill him if we don't… you know."

"What if you don't? Will it hurt you too?" Ron asked timidly.

Hermione hadn't asked that question. Perhaps it did. Perhaps it simply riddled her with guilt for a bit and then she'd just move on. "I don't know. Any pain is supposed to be shared, emotions eventually. But I don't think it's ever happened."

"Do your parents know?"

She hadn't thought of that either. She didn't want to explain to her parents her nocturnal activities, destinies and the like. Their last sex talk had ended up with Hermione _teaching_ the lecture with diagrams and charts and a recommended reading list beginning with the Kama Sutra.

"I don't think they'd understand Veela mating rites," she said solemnly. "I think it'd just be best to introduce him as a boyfriend for now. I don't even think they'd meet him for a bit, anyway."

"What about Christmas?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"We haven't decided anything yet. I think he's trying to avoid it actually. His father's not happy his mate's not plotting to take over the world. He's threatening to relieve Draco of his inheritance…" She was going to continue but she couldn't let them worry. They couldn't know Lucius could kill her now before the curse took full power of them and still keep Draco. So she didn't tell them, something she would always regret.

Moments later, she found herself holding onto her chest without realizing it. What she had dismissed as too much food too quickly was moving upward with great speed. It reached her heart and tugged towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

Without so much as a whisper to Ron and Harry, she got up, her hand still at her heart, and followed the tugging pain right out of the Hall. And just as she stepped through the doors, the tugging went away. She looked around and there he was: Draco, leaning against the wall of the doorway holding onto his arm.

Her own arm started to itch like there was something crawling on it that just wouldn't shake off. She ran to him.

"Draco! What's wrong?" she said.

"Did you hear?" he said, his forehead melting into sweat.

She thought he was delirious or sick or something for him to be keeling over onto the wall for support. She tried to hold him up but despite his thin exterior, he was ridiculously difficult to hold up. That's when Ron and Harry came running after her and helped her hold him. He was so pale, more so than usual.

"Did you hear?" he whispered again. "I called for you in my dreams, did you hear?"

She wanted to cry as she saw him so sickly. A tear or two escaped but she wiped them away frantically before Ron and Harry could see. They each held up a side. But Draco saw her cry. He raised a pale hand to her cheek and traced the fall of the tear.

"I heard you," she said with a fake smile, holding up his face. "I felt you pulling me."

He smiled so weakly, like his mouth was too heavy to lift. "It's the potion. It's run old," he said breathlessly.

"Let's take him to the infirmary," said Ron.

"No!" Draco shouted. "Take me to Snape. He has potion."

"What potion is he talking about?" Harry looked to Hermione. She shrugged helplessly, still fighting back tears. His pain was floating into her, overflowing her senses. It was a fire, something tearing her in two. And she knew how he felt every day he was with her.

"Snape. Has. Potion," he repeated again and again, his eyes refusing to open as they nearly dragged him to the potion master's office.

When they reached it, Snape wasn't inside. "What now? The infirmary?" Ron asked.

"Set him down there," she yelled to the boys and knelt down beside Draco, her hands on his clammy face trying to wake him. "Draco, what now? Which potion is it?"

"I dunno," he slurred in huffs. "The box. It's in the box we left on the roof."

"That's what was in the box?" she yelled almost angrily that he would leave a potion on a roof. "A potion? What does this potion do?"

It was a moment before he responded but he quickly answered in a single exhale, "To stop me from hurting you."

She had begun sobbing now without even noticing. Harry couldn't take being helpless and yelled urgently, "Ok, which roof?"

She looked up at Harry's expectant eyes. _God bless you, Harry,_ she thought. "Call your broom. I'll take you," she said and Harry began to run towards the door. "Ron, you wait for Snape and take care of Draco… for me."

He gulped and nodded. He looked to Draco spread out on the sofa, his face twitching from Veela to human to Veela and shivered. Hermione had already run after Harry.

They had run outside and Hermione had mounted Harry's broom behind him without a second thought. She pointed towards the tallest tower and they arrived so quickly that she didn't have time to hold onto Harry. She doubted anyone had ever really ridden with him on one of his kamikaze rides for a snitch.

She grabbed the box, now half-buried in snow, and ran back to Harry who took off just as she reached the broom and they hurried down into the castle and ran for dear life to Snape's office, the box safely tucked under her arm.

When she reached the door, Snape was already inside. "Do you have it?" he asked sternly and urgently.

Hermione tossed it to him and he ripped it open, pulling out a stubby round bottle, very small, and pouring the liquid into Draco's jittery mouth.

Instantly, he gave a shiver that reverberated throughout his entire body and then he was calm, asleep. Hermione immediately knelt down beside him. "Is he going to be ok?" she asked, sobbing, not bothering to look the professor's way.

"Yes. He will be fine. As will you. The bond will begin to fade soon enough," the professor said, his tone steady as he sat behind his desk.

They all looked at him. Hermione began to heave angrily. "THE BOND?" she yelled. "WHAT BOND?"

"Surely you knew what he was doing. I thought it was your doing that he was taking it in the first place."

"You found a way to sever the Veela mating instinct?"

"Not sever, simply suppress for a small period of time."

"But he… I know he could still feel it. It was tearing him up inside. I felt it too… just now, the pain!"

"No, dear, he wasn't suppressing the pain. He was stopping the connection so _you_ wouldn't feel it. He took both your curse. If it weren't for the potion, there would be no pain, merely desire," the professor said calmly. "He wished to free you from it all. It's why you never received the dreams of the Veela Calling. They haunted _him_."

She slowly got up off her knees and made her way outside, where she found the hallway wall and slid down onto the floor. Surely after, Harry calmly walked out and sat beside her and later, Ron took her other side. Hermione buried her face in her hands and didn't raise her weary vision until a half hour later when Draco walked out of the professor's office as if nothing, as if he hadn't made her cry… as if he hadn't spent months in agony for her and said nothing.

As soon he saw them, he knelt down in front of her quietly and lifted her eyes to his. She gasped and jumped on him, hugging him so tightly that it made him nearly fall onto his back in the empty hallway.

"You're late for class, students," Snape said grimly, towering over them.

Harry and Ron stood up beside her. Snape had already left to class or to wherever he had to go. "You feeling better, Malfoy?" Harry extended the first olive branch.

"Much better. Thank you," he responded, effortlessly and lost in the bushels of brown hair.

Neither Harry nor Ron could remember the last time they had heard a Malfoy show any form of gratitude whatsoever. It wasn't in the manual. They looked at each other. "Uh, we better leave you two," Ron said awkwardly, pulling Harry after him up the stairs to divination.

"Hermione, I'm going to need to breathe at one point, dear," Draco said after some time. "You know I'm sure tears are no good for this fabric."

"Stop taking the potion, Draco," she said through muffled sobs. "Reduce the dose then cut it off entirely."

He pushed off her hug. "Are you mad or just a masochist?" he yelled. "There's no way I'm doing that!"

"Stop trying to save me from this! It's just as much my right to feel as yours."

"Feel, is that what you call it?" he said, flabbergasted. "Try night tremors, the incredible need to hump the first thing with a leg…"

"Liar, Veelas only feel for mates, not others."

"Veelas don't. Their mates do!"

"Was this about jealousy or you just trying to deny what you are? Does the potion make you look human too?"

"No, Hermione, would you stop? You don't know what you're talking about."

At this she got angry. Nobody told her what she knew and what she didn't know. "Really?" she yelled. "You took a Roark Potion. It's made from various berries and herb and its main ingredient is white chocolate, which is why I assume you went to the kitchen to pick it up. It's taken to draw the full force of side effects from one person to another but it's never used, unless through torture, because you'd have to be mad or seriously disturbed to want to take in all the pain of a dual curse. And I know you did it for various reason, some your own and some for me, but I want you to know that you don't need to spare me anything. You don't need to hide who you are from me. And I want to be able to feel, Draco. I want to be able to share with you all this godforsaken destiny has placed on both of us. Now, will you be a man and realize when you are beaten or am I going to have to find some red heels and _make_ you understand?"

He looked annoyed, a bit angry, like he was thinking of how to most gracefully give in. He just shook his head in exasperation and walked into her with such force that he pinned her up against the wall to kiss her. But her face was firm and she turned her cheek to him.

"Argh! Fine!" he yelled. "You wanna feel it? Fine! You'll be dying to have me."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you'll be denying me then?"

He narrowed his eyes deviously. "…touché," he said and kissed her lightly.

And then she pushed off and looked at him inquiringly. "So… where'd you get the tattoo?"

-----

**To be continued: **Where did Draco put his tattoo? What will happen when Hermione starts feeling the urge of the Veela? UP NEXT: More spells and potions gone awry, more drunken bantering and jealous rages, Christmas, jail, closets and socks, elf liberation fronts, and kids grow up…

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**REVIEW! **


	6. Need You, Want You

**WARNING:** SOME PARTS ARE SEXUALLY EXPLICIT! MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY! I'm warning you now…

**NOTE:** Notice how the dreams work as foreshadowing. The story will end one of the two ways… but in life, paths often cross.

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**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART SIX

-----

The question of the tattoo was put to rest for the next couple of days but the bet continued. He had refused to tell her the task after the tattoo, which did not bode well upon her but soon she found them returning to conversations of strange childhood memories and family and classes and what naughty word "rutabaga" sounded like, and then they would talk of the what would happen now that Draco slowly went off the potion.

"I'm worried," Hermione said at lunch the fourth day of the Quarter Moon Gamble. "I'm afraid I'll be talking to a professor and suddenly decide to bark or lick them or something."

Draco laughed. "No I doubt that. The urges _are_ controllable, Hermione, especially for you. I doubt you'll be into any of the professors we have at school anyway, and Veelas are definitely not doglike."

She nodded acknowledging the fact thankfully but continued, "No really! Tell me what it feels like without the potion."

"It's like as soon as you enter a room, I feel your presence call to me, a beacon. And then my hands turn cold and dry and I find myself daydreaming in class with this feeling in my chest like I want to squeal madly with glee. And God, when you touch me… when you kiss me…" he said. "I go wild inside like a billion little pins are pricking at my skin but it's just my hair standing on end. That's when I split in two inside. It's like my body's moving and I'm talking but a man inside my head just keeps dreaming about holding you, about… well frankly things I doubt you'll ever let me do," he said with a smile.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smirked deviously. "And I'll be dreaming these things myself?"

"Oh Lord, I hope so. I've just been dying to tell you."

She smiled but her mind had already drifted elsewhere. "Draco, what of children?"

"What?" he said, his head shooting up from his books with fearful eyes. They sat studying at the far table in the library. She'd never had someone to study with before.

"I know it's scary but the books weren't clear. _If_ we were to have children, they'd be Veela right?" she asked, fearful curiosity in her eyes.

"I-- I suppose. They might not have the gene. Veelas are dominant in my family but not exclusively so. My father's brother was human but he died on the streets after my family disowned him. Something about pig farmers, I reckon," he said dismissively, going back to his parchment and quill.

"Well, I'm just worried that they might--" and she stopped herself.

"Not be normal?" he tried to fill in her thoughts. He was getting damn good at that, especially around the evenings when the potion faded. She had also begun to fear losing her privacy but it didn't seem to matter. She didn't feel she had to hide anything from him. He on the other hand was holding back something. She feared it had to do with his family and their relations to the Dark Lord. She tried not to think of it.

"A bit. I just-- do you even _want_ kids?" she asked, dropped her quill and leaning forward to get closer to him as if it might be a forbidden question or answer or both.

He looked at her intently, his eyebrows dangerously close together, not as if he had to think about it but to read her reaction and look for a slight expectation or a response. He found nothing. She was a rock.

"I don't know Hermione. What kind of world would we be bringing them into?" he finally responded, dwelling on other thoughts. She knew it was one of those ridiculous cliché answers men give, a "wild vagina call" hiding sincerity.

She raised an eyebrow and responded. "Bull."

"Alright, I don't see myself as a dad… ever!"

He waited for her face to show some response. Again, nothing, and then she smiled. "I know what you mean. I could never imagine it before but now… Now it's all I think about lately, which I know is creepy and pushy but I think it's to do with Veela mating rites."

"Did you have a dream?"

"Yes! We were in a white cottage by the sea with a little boy who looked just like you when we first met, only with slightly darker hair. And you called me in from the balcony and I woke up. It was such a lovely white beach with such beautiful blue water. I longed to go back when I woke, and I wondered if it's just a dream or is the potion's effect fading?"

He smiled sadly. "You've such nice dreams," he said. "I'm envious."

"What did you dream about last night?"

He paused and looked back down, his flaxen hair falling over his eyes. "I was in Dumbledore's office and he was telling me I was too late… That I had lost you, and I couldn't say goodbye."

-----

It was raining outside, or so they could see through the roof of the Great Hall. Draco kept looking at his pocket watch, all throughout dinner. It began to annoy her so the next time he did, she took it from his hand and looked at it too. There was a small lightning bolt carved into the number eight.

"Draco? What happens at eight?" she looked up, a bit angry and suspicious.

He roughly repossessed the watch. "Nothing you should concern yourself with."

"Does it have anything to do with Harry?" she said and raised an eyebrow.

He scoffed. "Of course not. It's just the next task of the bet."

"Why the lightening bolt then?"

He looked up from playing with his food and found her worrisome eyes staring at him. "Task #3: Get hit by lightning."

She started to laugh a bit, filled with denial. "Are you insane?" she yelled angrily.

"Well I'd have to be right?" he said with a small reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll be in a full rubber suit. I just have to get hit is all."

"Oh yes, because _that_ makes it all better!" she yelled.

"Darling, sarcasm may be your friend but be smart. I wouldn't kill myself. I know how to be careful. I've done… similar… things before."

"Can I come? Just in case of anything?"

He laughed. "Just in case you have to say goodbye? No! Besides, it's too dangerous."

"Just in case I can help. I also want to see you in a rubber suit. That'll be interesting," she said, trying to cheer up their conversation all whilst knowing she couldn't get him to change his mind.

He went to poke at a piece of vegetable but it slid off as he hit it, flinging straight at Crabbe's nose, which still looked a bit green. Hermione gave a small, hidden chuckle and handed Crabbe a napkin.

Then eight came. Dinner was over and Draco went to walk Hermione over to the Gryffindors'. She really didn't want to but he seemed so distant, worried more than focused, and she figured she'd do what he says and give him one less thing to worry about. Just as they reached the portrait, he let go of her hand and withdrew it into his pocket like the other one. He'd been so silent the whole way there.

"Draco, tell me what's wrong," she asked sweetly, worried herself.

"It's nothing to do with you," he responded, still looking at the floor between them.

"It's to do with _you_ and that means it worries me as well. Now spill!"

He looked up and furrowed his brow. He looked around to see if they were alone but the lady in the portrait seemed to raise an eyebrow for him to say something as well. "I'll tell you when I get back ok? Tomorrow morning at breakfast? And I want to take you out at night, maybe dancing… wherever you want," he said with an enthusiastic yet fake smile.

"Draco, don't do this."

"In the dream, I didn't get to say goodbye, right? Well if anything happens to me, just know I love you, alright?" he said, a tad jittery to see her response.

Her eyes got a bit wider. He had said he loved her. "What does that mean?"

"I'm just saying… just in case."

"No, the 'I love you.' What did you mean?"

"Darling, it's three words. I'm sure you get what they mean."

"Draco, don't play. You said that for a reason, more than just to do with the bet. You think something else is going to happen, don't you?" she pleaded to know, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Come in and tell me."

He looked at the lady in the portrait who looked just as stunned as Hermione had, only with 150 pounds less cheekbone. She didn't want him to come in either. "No thanks. I don't think I'm welcome. And that's fine. I'm late anyway. If you hear a slight sizzle and the smell of burnt flesh, tell my mother I hid all the vegetables I never ate under a plank in the closet in the fourth hallway. The rest went to the neighbor's dog," he said quickly with a devious smile, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and walked off as if someone were pulling him.

Just as he turned the corner, Hermione gave a silent sigh and whispered to herself, "I love you too."

-----

Hermione didn't sleep that night. She ended up sitting by the window and watching the lightning strike in the distance and the water and snow trickle down the glass and blend into a small mass on the lattice outside. She felt a calm run over her, just as it did whenever it rained. She thought of Draco but, for some reason, felt reassured that he was fine. She thought of the dream and felt she was dreaming again, asleep in her now abandoned, sunken bed.

When morning hit her face, she had indeed fallen asleep and the slightest ray woke her up. She quickly dressed and threw a few more sealing spells at her roof before heading downstairs. Very few people were at breakfast. Draco was not one of them. She waited around and Harry and Ron came in a bit later, sitting on either side of her, watching her move a single pea around her plate for quite some time.

Ron was the first to speak. "You alright there?"

'I'm fine, Ron, thanks. I'm just thinking of… silly things I shouldn't worry about."

"Well I've personally always thought Malfoy to be silly," Harry said, drinking some milk. "So what'd he do?"

"He went to get hit by lightning," she said with the same monotone, distant voice.

Harry scoffed but Ron knew she wasn't kidding. "Wait, are you bloody serious?"

"Well I never thought he was a complete idiot… conniving, maybe, but not a complete idiot. Looks like I was wrong," Ron said as if joking. They both knew he wasn't.

"Well don't you have like… Veela OnStar or something? Can't you feel if he's ok?"

Ron didn't understand the reference. "Don't know. I feel fine. If he died, I think I would have felt it and he's been gone since eight."

"Is that really why you're worried then or is something else going on?" Ron asked.

"Hmm. Something else is going on with him. It's got me worried that he's keeping something from me. He's had dreams… about losing me and not being able to say goodbye and he's been talking so final. I feel like… something's coming."

"Something bad?" Harry whispered. Then Draco walked into the Hall and it seemed they all went silent. "Forget it; he's here."

She looked quickly towards the door and as soon as she saw his hair all tossed and his robes a tad burnt on the edges, she smiled brilliantly. He was fine. She wanted to run up to him but he was already coming towards her, a smirk upon his face.

"You ever kiss a dead man in the mornin'?" he asked and squeezed in between her and Harry, kissing her lightly on the lips. She laughed when he broke away. "Worried?"

"Me? No, never," she responded jubilantly. "So what'd you want to tell me last night?"

Draco looked behind her at Ron and told her, "Not here. Fancy a walk by the lake? You done?"

"You're not going to eat?"

"Nah, that's fine. Let's go," he said, standing up and offering her a hand and a smile.

She quickly said goodbye to Ron and Harry and followed Draco to the outskirts of the school towards the lake. The squid monster was sunbathing on the snowy shore. Or it could have been dead. Who knows? But today was one of the last days they'd see sun.

"I wanted-- Well, I needed to tell you something's coming up. Something bad," he said and sat her down on a big boulder. "My father has something planned. It doesn't involve you. It involves the Dark Lord."

"You mean it involves Harry, then."

"Yes, but I don't want you interfering with this one. You stay out of it, alright? Promise me."

"What's going to happen? Tell me! If it involves Harry, it involved me too!"

"They're coming to the school, Hermione. They want to but I won't be involved in it. My father's furious. The Slytherins aren't too happy with me either. They're making the bet deadlier to play revenge. I'll be fine though. I've just a handful more and it's over. I'm done with them."

"When's this thing going to happen? What is it?"

"They won't tell me. But it'll be a while. A year maybe. I don't care. I'm getting out."

She took in a deep breath and said, "What's going to happen when they find out? Do you think Voldemort is really going to like one of his minion's sons going off to the good side with all his little secrets?"

"Hermione, I'm leaving. Going off and disappearing, blending in. I want you to come with me."

She looked startled like she'd just witnessed his trifle encounter with lightning. "Draco… what about school?"

"I'm leaving after the year ends. They can't get us here, right? I'll talk to Dumbledore about a private room, maybe in exchange for a little information, and I'll leave the family, claim my inheritance and go."

Her eyes became round reminders of darkness. "Draco, you're scaring me."

"Don't be silly. My suitcase's been packed since I was 12."

"No, I mean you wanting me to go with you. That part's freakin' me out, frankly. I was kind of hoping to finish out."

"Hermione, I can't stay. Neither can you. And I can pretty much tell you, once this potion's out of my system, you're not going to _want_ to stay."

A tear fell down her cheek, which she wiped with trembling hands, and went to look off into the water. Instead of dooming thoughts, she was blank. She couldn't think of all the people she was leaving or the wasted hours of studying only to end up hiding out in the streets. Perhaps Harry would find a way to stop Voldemort. Maybe she'd get a chance afterwards. But she had no choice.

They'd have to run away.

That night they spent in the Spyder Club, dancing until morning and trying desperately to freeze their lives the way their bodies froze in that dance floor. But then they had to leave and come back to reality and by then Hermione knew there was no way she could ever leave the sanctity of his touch or the echo of his words or the way she felt when he was in the room. For once, unafraid and never alone.

-----

The next task was simple: spend a night in the shrieking shack. Hermione had spent time there her third year, even been inside, and found nothing too scary there… other than the occasional errant werewolf. The Slytherins didn't know the Marauder's history in the shack and were afraid. So she figured she'd say yes when Draco asked her to come with him.

She brought extra blankets, because she knew it it'd be cold, and her books to read. She told the boys not to worry and that she'd be fine but they hadn't really bought it so Harry gave her the invisibility cloak, just in case, and she went.

They met up at the lake and flew the way there. He was jittery about it but he looked a hundred times happier now that he had told her his troubles, or at least a part of them.

Once inside, he set up some blankets for them both to lie. She saw them, raised an eyebrow, and pulled one to the other side of the small room. "Don't even think about it."

He didn't seem disappointed, as if he expected her to defy him. He took pleasure in the game, as did she. But it was pointless to deny they both wanted it.

They sat against opposite walls, staring with devious smirks. Hermione was the first to pull out her books and start reading. He gave a disillusioned sigh. "Why do you have to keep pretending, Hermione? We're not like other people. It's ok for us to want it."

She lowered her book so only her eyes could look at his tired ones and sigh back. "But it's not ok for us to have it. Just because it's ok to want to do it doesn't mean we have to or that it's ok."

"But it's ok when normal people do it. Why shouldn't it be ok for us?"

"I'm not other people and it's not ok for everyone."

"Darling it's our god-given right as humans. Now tell me why you're so afraid of it."

"You mean _you're_ not?"

"Why should I be?"

She squinted her eyes dangerously close. "You've had sex before!"

"Well yes, darling, haven't you? Oh… no wonder you were being a prude. Well, prude-_ish_," he said, leaning back onto the wall so his body slid down.

"I am not a prude!" she yelled, closing the book. "And stop trying to goad me into sex, Draco. I will definitely not do it _here_! Men, really!"

He sighed and raised both hands in defeat. "Prudes…" he whispered like a petulant child. She opened the opened the book again, roughly, to any page really. She just needed a distraction. But just as she did, she saw a picture of two people in the strangest position and she read the title. "Sexual indoctrination of vampire clans." She closed that book so fast that it blew her hair about as it slammed shut.

He raised an eyebrow. "See something scary?" She nodded slowly, with wide-open eyes, both hands still on either cover. "Well then. If we won't be having any fun tonight, I'll be off to sleep."

"What? I thought we'd at least talk."

"Fine. You talk. I sleep."

"No, come on!"

"Well, then, answer me this: Did you dream anything… strange last night?" He seemed rather interested in this turn of conversation, which did not bode well on her considering they'd just been talking about sex.

"I don't remember."

"Hmm. You'd have remembered this. Never mind me, then," he said and completely slid down onto the floor, grabbing for his pillow.

She smiled when she saw him. He looked so nice when he slept, like all the little things he ever did to her or her friends went away. Deep inside, he was just a child, something he only revealed when asleep. She wondered how many other girls knew this side of him, how many even cared. How many other women had he loved in his life?

"You know I can't really sleep with you staring," he said out of nowhere and she snapped out of her thoughts, realizing she really was staring.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"Care to share with the class?"

"How many?" she asked.

"How many what?" he replied, not bothering to open his eyes.

"How many other girls have you slept with you son of a bitch!" she yelled out of nowhere, throwing the book she'd been reading in his direction, missing him entirely. He opened his eyes when he heard the slam of the 2,000-page book hit the floor.

"Are you mad?" he yelled, sitting up.

"Answer me!"

"How many times or how many girls?" She looked ready to growl, pounce, and claw out his eyes. "Ok! Five! Five girls!" She opened her eyes wide and slumped back against the wall, drawing back into her thoughts. He smiled and crawled the short distance to her, sitting atop his feet in front of her and caressing her cheek.

"Did you love any of them?" she asked in a very small, distant voice.

"No," he said, in just the right amount of time for her to truly buy it.

She wrinkled her nose and looked at him disapprovingly yet slightly relieved. "You are just pathetically horny, aren't you?"

"Well no but if it makes you feel better, go with it."

She gave a small laugh and a sniffle and moved in to quickly kiss him. But a quick kiss turned long and soon, she was sitting on his lap. She wasn't sure how but her arms were locked behind his neck and his handled her waist.

He pinned her against the old wall and soon, he was lifting them both up, standing, legs intertwined and yet it seemed as if he was trying to stop himself from sleeping with her.

"Draco," she said as he moved to kiss her neck and chest. "What are you doing?"

"Just go with it, dear," he said, muffled in-between kisses.

"Well you sort of had me on the floor there and I was wondering why the hell we're standing now."

He stopped and looked up, eye to eye. "Well I thought you'd stop me."

"Hmm. I would, wouldn't I-- shouldn't I?"

"Up to you, love."

"Yes… love."

"Now would be a nice time to reply. Fitting, even."

"Hmm… Perhaps," she said and looked down. "But there'd be no point. You know I do."

"Well sometimes you have to hear it, dear, not that I'm pushing but--"

"I really can't."

"Why?" he asked, actually bewildered. "It's not like I'm not going to say it back and you're not the first to say it, and you know I'm not just going to run off with McGonagall next week just to hurt you."

She made a taste of distaste like she'd just smelled bad fish at the thought of him and McGonagall. "It just-- It doesn't feel right."

He raised an eyebrow. "Give it a few minutes. It'll feel marvelous."

She gave him another disapproving look but he only smiled and tilted his head sweetly. He brushed back her hair and realized he still had her pinned against the wall, his hip bone digging into her stomach, he assumed, painfully.

So he went to back away and surrender to her morals but she pulled him back in. "What's this?" he said coyly.

She mimicked his devious smile and said sincerely, "Maybe it's not about love. Maybe it's about company. Don't leave me, ok?"

"I'm not going anywhere without you. You know that. It might kill me with or without the potion."

"No I mean right now. Don't move. Just don't-- Don't let go."

"Cold, are you?"

"Sometimes a girl just needs a little warmth, to know she's not alone," she whispered.

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "No chance of that. You're not getting rid of me that easily," he whispered back and kissed her, sliding back down onto their knees, then onto her blankets and they fell asleep as soon as their heads hits that pillow.

Draco was the first to awaken the next morning. She'd been right. It was nice to have someone's warmth there with you. They'd woken early, just enough to go back without getting caught. He kissed her goodbye so they could both take long cold showers and they'd meet up at breakfast.

"What's next?" was the first thing she asked.

He was taken by surprise but answered with a jubilant smile, "Task #5: Trade places with an enemy."

"Are you kidding me? I thought this was supposed to be punishment."

"Well I think I'm the first to fraternize with a Gryffindor actually, that I can remember."

"Yay for us!" she said and gave a little jump.

"That means there's a Polyjuice potion just waiting for us. So…" he said and pulled a hair from her head.

"Ow! Wait… Polyjuice potion? I thought you'd just go to all my classes and dress up in my outfits or something."

"Well, yes. I'll be doing that… in your body."

She opened her eyes wide. "Oh bloody hell," she whispered distantly. "I should have just slept with you last night."

Two third years looked at them rather shocked then moved away and began to whisper to some second years and Draco followed the web of gossip with his eyes all the way out of the room. "Well that's gonna be bloody hard to explain," he said sadly.

"Well that way I would have saved the mess of explaining a few things," she said, disregarding him.

"Such as?" he asked, deeply interested.

"Birthmark on me left butt cheek, strange double-jointed-ness in even stranger places, and my insatiable need for peanut butter and chocolate, for caffeine…" she drawled on.

"Hermione, stop!"

"No, I don't want you to find any odd surprises and be totally disgusted."

"Don't be ridiculous! I don't care!"

"But you're always so clean and proper and all that crap and--"

"Would you shut up, woman? I couldn't give a damn. Stop assuming I'm going to find anything about you distasteful. I won't! I promise! I'll find it cute or weird but it's not like I'm going to cut off relations with you over a bloody birthmark. And I have to love peanut butter or chocolate."

"And. Peanut butter _and_ chocolate. Together."

"Now you're just being crazy," he said with a dismissive smirk.

She looked honestly perturbed so he hugged and said, "Hey, feel like coming to my place?"

"What?" she shrieked and moved away.

"Dumbledore okayed the room." He smiled brightly, like a kid in a candy store or a boy with a new toy.

She followed him to a far corner of the school, one she didn't even know existed. "Draco, how far is this thing?"

"Just far enough," he responded and they kept on walking. He finally started getting a bit jittery, looking around to see if they were alone. "Now!" he hissed and pushed her up against the wall right next to a large stone gargoyle.

"Draco this is…" she whispered, feeling his hands round her stomach towards her back, placing his hand upon the wall, and all of a sudden, the wall behind her opened as if a door and she begins to fall back into a room. Just then, a hand catches her back and Draco has her, firmly a foot above the floor. She didn't even have time to breathe but there he was, catching her as she fell.

"Sorry about that. I was trying to be smooth. Not my forte, apparently," he said, setting her down gently on the floor then helping her up. She gripped his arm tightly, dwelling in the strength of his hidden muscles, and sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Draco… the dreams…"

"Would you forget the dreams?" he shouted back.

"What do you think they mean?"

"Stop, really, please," he begged.

"If I can admit I'm afraid, so can you. Draco, we're dying here… slowly! And you won't even admit it," she said calmly, turning her back to him and walking towards the bed in the middle of the room and sitting down on the edge, staring at her intertwined hands. "I'm tired of playing these games. We shouldn't have to, right? You love me. I know you do. I love you too. I've gotten to know more about you in the moments we don't even talk than I have in all my years with you!

"The Veela instinct is slowly creeping into my system and you refuse to admit its presence, its existence, in the way we feel. We can't treat this like a regular relationship any more than you can teach a flower to dance or evil to fall just because we _need_ to be together. That's all we have without you, Draco. We have need. I need you to hold me right now but you won't listen to what my eyes are telling you, to the voice you're raised inside us! I need you to shut up but you refuse to admit the effortlessness and the choking reality of us! I don't care about fancy words any more than you care about the birthmark on my arse! You say you want me right now and I'm yours. Just say it!"

"Hermione, I…"

"Draco, say you need me," she whispered and looked up with pleading, sad eyes.

"I think-- I don't believe you. If I say I need you, you'll stop me, I know."

"No I won't. And it's not because you want it. It's not because I can feel the way you feel looking at me right now. It's because for the longest time, the more you made me feel like dirt, the more I knew I was slowly falling in love with you. You didn't will this, Draco. I want you. I _have_ wanted you for the longest time."

"What?" he said breathlessly, feeling as if he had to apologize.

"I want you. In this bed. Right now," she said with perfect, calm sincerity, eyes firm and conscious of what she'd just said.

His insides fought to say no. His smile had faded away and his eyes pleaded her not to say this. The games… the games were not to taunt. Their flirting was a halt, a cry for help from his hidden inhibitions. But she was too smart and too caring and she saw past his charade. She took away his guilt and all he had left was the same need, radiating off her. And he absorbed it with all too great a want.

"Oh God, thank you," he whispered to himself, so inaudibly she definitely didn't hear it, and walked closer to her, his feet trying to stop him. This one meant something. He couldn't ruin it. He couldn't slip up. And at the same time, he felt he couldn't. If only the potion would wear off, he could show her all he hid inside for so long.

"Say it," she said, slowly standing at the front of the bed, her hands still fumbling with sweat.

"I need you," he whispered as he always did, pushing an errant strand back behind her ear. "I want you."

And just then, a smile found her and slowly crept across her face, gently and trying desperately not to disturb their shared stares. If she moved, if she breathed, if she looked away, he'd stop.

But he looked down to his hand and followed it as it moved to her shoulder and pulling down her robe to her elbow. And her smile found him too.

And his other hand found her cheek and his lips found lips, all too tenderly, and just seconds into their kiss, the Veela instinct caught up with them, tearing at each other in a desperate need. Her nails dug into his arms as he laid her back onto the bed, heat rising in and up through him.

But Hermione only felt the calm that comes with an expected surprise. He managed to take off her clothes with a single hand, the other gently caressing her cheek with his thumb as he kissed her. For once, she felt no reservations, no need to…

Suddenly, he stopped. His hands froze. His face lifted from hers and looked at her with amazement and an accompanying smile. Before she could ask what was wrong, his eyes began to change from a silver/gray to a feral gold and in the distance, she could hear a growling coming closer, louder. It was in her head, she knew, but she didn't care.

Something awoke in him. Something he'd been holding back.

She couldn't help her heart or the hand that traced his neck to his bellybutton and began to unbutton his pants, staring at his golden eyes as in a trance. His shirt went flying off, as if quickly was not quick enough. Her hands didn't fumble. Her lips didn't dry with remorse. Poor buttons that got in her way went flying off.

All the while, he didn't move, merely stared at her under him on the bed. And just when his heart reached as quickly as it could beat, the growling became so loud in her ears that she pulled herself towards the headboard on her back, sliding from under him, their eyes still locked.

She didn't need to say anything. She spread her knees and held the board, calling him to her with the want they now shared. He crawled to her so hastily. He was like a rampaging animal, kissing her so roughly that she felt the blood of her own tongue bathe the roof her mouth, of _his_ mouth.

"Don't stop," she whispered hoarsely, her hands ruffling wildly his perfect hair. "Don't stop."

He seemed to need her closer to him, the hand on her cheek moving to her back to pull her deeper into him. The other, gripped her thigh roughly and pulled up her skirt, teasing her sex until finally he was within her…

-----

_Special thanks go to the following people for adding me to their Story Alert List. I only hope that means this little drabble made enough of an impression upon you to want to keep up with this, a written manifestation of my sad imagination._

**Thank you: **anrlin12, Ashes-of-the-Clan, Bohemian Revolution, celestreal, cherrychanlay, chicco357, Crazzivixxen, darbythomas, Death to all who defy me, Depressing.Love.Songs, dgirlm, Dynastydragons02, i hate every 1, Isorfidien, Jolie Ralph Lauren, kagome2323, lady silverfox, lanthis, LightScribe, Lovelylady90, Lucia12391, miss.pebbles, mmmseverus, Moonliteshadow17, Phenox07, Pure Girl, Rachy-poo, ratchet freak, Revenge, Rubber Duck Commander, strawberryblueberrykitten, Suseh, Unspoken.invisible.me, xDeleted, xenija, xfatexisxaxcoldxheartedxwhorex, xxjenn, zabinilover, _and _zandra rose.

-----

**To be continued: **Forgive the ending. I warned you… Yes, that was the longest pre-sex scene of life. I apologize for that as well but a friend had told me this taunt between them was prodding on for far too long. I couldn't wait until the end of the bet for them to have sex. It'd have been pointless. But don't feel discouraged! The story still goes on and the bet is still not repaid. Infidelity and rage await, and death and reality soon catches up with them.

Onto the next task! Will Draco and Hermione be able to resist the temptation that comes with being in each other's bodies?

-----

**REVIEW!**


	7. Infidel

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART SEVEN

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ This chapter is really dear to me because sometimes, especially while under extreme drunken duress, you wake up next to your best friend and your fiancé happens to walk in at a really inopportune time. Hey, it's not your fault, and the good ones will understand. Remember: sometimes, it's not about love. It's about need. It's about want. --Grace._

-----

"You know what I truly love? I can do with all the nooks and crannies but I love the expanses of skin. Raw skin. Don't you?" Draco said in bed the next morning, running caressing fingertips over her back.

"Hmm-huh," she murmured, not bothering to open her eyes as the light of mid-day bathed them with new life and new warmth they had not seen in months. Hermione was joyously half-asleep, having just rested in the first dry bed in quite some time.

Draco lay beside her, propped up onto his right elbow and enjoying the peace of mind that came with finally having ravaged his mate. His eyes had lost their golden luster shortly after. He wondered how long it'd been.

She wondered how many more days she'd have like this, making love in the morning only to awake to the light of a new day. Something in her told her this could last forever if she wanted. Then reality would yell out, "Nothing lasts forever."

"Don't be silly," he said. "Or rather, don't be so dooming."

She opened her eyes. "What?"

"Don't think such things. It's like emotional sabotage."

She lifted herself up onto her hands, covering herself with a silver silk sheet, probably ruined by now. "You can hear what I'm thinking?"

"Not in words per se but yeah, I feel what you feel... especially in moments like this," he say coyly.

"Is that why I feel so... content?"

He responded with a smile but it slowly faded and he looked away, getting up off the bed to pick up the clothing thrown over the floor. She tried not to look but he had a most marvelous bum. She felt silly being modest, after having slept with the man. She knew he was probably listening in a rush of confidence hit her, his confidence.

She looked down under her sheet. She had bruises on her breasts, her chest, her thigh where his hands had gripped so dangerously. "Do they hurt an awful lot?" he asked caringly, wrapping a sheet around his waist and coming towards her to give her a quick kiss like a thoughtful good morning.

It kept catching her off guard whenever he anticipated her thoughts. "No. I'm fine. How're _your_ war wounds?" she asked, looking at the tidy red slits of flesh where her nails had dug into his arms and back.

He sniggered, which she would mock later. He put her robes on the bed by her feet and went into his bathroom, drawing them a bath. She sighed, dwelling in his contentment and snuggling herself into bed. She knew she had to get up but she had a warm feeling inside that made her want to stay there for as long as she could. Dare she say it, forever?

"Hermione, get in here!" he yelled from the bathroom soon as the water stopped running.

She wrapped the sheet around herself and peeked into the bathroom timidly. The bathtub was overflowing with bubbles and thick candles floated above it, filling the room with a yellow glow. He came up behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist. She shrieked and gave a little jump.

"You scared me," she said, holding her heart.

"You like? I figured we worked up enough of a sweat."

She would have loved it any other day but for some reason, she wasn't in the mood to take a bath with him. "I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself then," he said, shrugged, and threw off his sheet as he stepped into the tub. "You sure you don't care to join?"

She looked back at the tossed room and down at herself and figured there was no real reason not to, so she let the sheet fall and walked in. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. He was so eerily comfortable around her, so open. She had once thought it was part of his arrogant nature but he was just at ease around her.

"Don't we have a trip to Hogsmeade coming up?"

"It's today, Draco."

"Oh fancy that!" he said, reaching for his wand and making the showerhead start playing some sort of classical piano music she didn't recognize, probably by some wizard artist only the elite knew. She rolled her eyes. He was still the same old pompous Draco.

"What do you want to do then?" she asked, turning around to face him and wrapping her legs around him, her arms behind his neck.

"Skip it? We could spend the day here, just you and me."

"Sounds nice but I promised Harry and Ron."

"Well that just kills the buzz," he said with hilarious emphasis on buzz.

Suddenly, they heard a knock at the door and a serious voice yelling out for him, "Mr. Malfoy! Are you in? It's Professor Dumbledore."

Draco gulped and Hermione's eyes opened wide. "The man has eyes everywhere in this bloody place," she hissed.

"Don't be silly," he said, getting up out of the tub and reaching for a towel to wrap around himself. "Coming, Professor! I was just taking a bath before Hogsmeade."

Hermione slumped down into the water so only her head from her nose up could be seen and unruly brown hair floated about like a great umbrella around her. She listened intently.

The door opened in the distance and footsteps entered the room as Draco invited him in. He was alone.

"Mr. Malfoy, how are you settling in?" the professor said, looking around at the mess of the bed in mid-day.

_Please don't let him look this way,_ she pleaded in her thoughts. _Draco, please don't let him see me._

"Fine, professor, thank you. Was anything I said useful?"

"Quite. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. And things with Ms. Granger?"

Draco was sure he heard Hermione gulp in the other room. "She's fine, sir. Excited about Christmas and Hogsmeade today and all that good stuff."

"So I take it you told her the consequences of your Veela heritage, yes?"

"No need. I said Veela, and she hurried to the library. Ended up telling me more than I myself knew."

"Oh good, so she took it well. I expect your prior fraternization aided the admittance."

"Quite, quite. The Gamble was an excellent tool."

"I only came because I got reports that a young man in a rubber bubble was floating on the water the other night. Would that have anything to do with the Gamble, then?"

Draco was sweating bullets. "Yup, that was me. But really I have to get dressed for Hogsmeade. Have to finish bathing first, actually."

"Yes, of course. I'm intruding. Well then, thank you," Dumbledore said and walking his great towering figure gracefully towards the door without even taking a glance into the bathroom. Hermione sighed as she saw him leave. But just as she began to lift her head from under the bubbles, the professor stopped in mid-entrance and said, looking over his half-moon spectacles, "Oh, you might want to tell Ms. Granger not to stay underwater for too long. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were quite worried when she left all of a sudden, and they'll be waiting for her in line for Hogsmeade. And I would very much like if you didn't bring up my mother next time you find yourself in need to curse, Mr. Malfoy."

And just like that, the door closed and Hermione and Draco were left with mouths wide-open and eyes about to fall out of their sockets and onto the ground.

-----

They ran to catch up with the other students, Draco still adjusting his tie when he ran straight into McGonagall. "In line, Mr. Malfoy!" she yelled.

"Yes, Professor, sorry," he answer sincerely, which caught her off guard. And then she saw how Hermione pulled his hand towards Harry and Ron and a smile came to her wrinkled face.

"Very well, then. Let's go, students!" the professor yelled.

Harry and Ron had greeted Hermione as usual but as soon as they saw Draco a few steps behind, their smiles melted into the snow. "Be nice, guys," she said, always feeling like their caretaker. They mumbled their greetings, Ron's especially inaudible.

She looked to the Slytherins. They wanted to eat them as a midnight snack. Pansy looked especially ill. "Don't worry. They can't do a thing," he whispered in her ear. As soon as she saw Pansy jealous of their proximity and huff away, a smile curled onto her face.

Once at the village, Harry and Ron each split up with plans to meet up for butterbeers later. The three agreed but Draco said he had a few things to take care of and that she should have that time for them. As soon as the boys left, she kissed him on the cheek for giving her some time with friends. She coiled her arm through his and they walked carelessly into the next store they saw.

He had led her to buy some new quills. She figured she'd need some parchment and ink. She'd just bought enough quills to last her a lifetime. But just watching him peruse the stands and shelves was enough entertainment for her. He seemed so serious and yet so careless of what he bought. Spoiled rich kid shopping. It was a bit hilarious. He'd catch her watching him between the stands and would smile but pay no mind.

Next they went to a little coffee bar to sit and talk. She had never been to this one before. It was like the Spyder Club, dark and mysterious and sultry... like Draco was to her. It had no name anywhere and very few people were there, only couples and no one their own age.

She squinted at him and took a sip of her tea. He smirked at her and leaned forward, mimicking her squint. "Yes?" he asked.

"Where are you going after this that you can't have a drink with me and the boys?"

"To my secret meeting with my mistress, Professor McGonagall," he joked, she hoped. He only laughed. "If you must know, I was going to find you a Christmas present."

Something felt funny about what he said. She wondered if it was a lie. But he wouldn't lie to her... would he? Maybe he was just holding back something.

"You sure about that?" she asked seriously.

His smirk went away. "Listen, I gotta take care of something. It's important and in time, I'll tell you but not right now. Alright?" he said, painfully, as if it hurt him not to tell her. She felt a pressure to her chest, an uneasy feeling like it could turn bad, but she nodded and sipped her tea again.

"What about tonight? Feel like doing something?" She tried to change the subject, to jollier things.

He brightened up. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"Well we've always gone where you want. How about I surprise _you_?"

He raised a curious eyebrow. "Deal," he said and soon they broke ways, she felt a little less whole and a little less the way she felt in that bed mere hours ago.

-----

"Butterbeer should not be blue, Ron. Neither beer nor butter are blue. It's unnatural. Therefore, you're idiot if you think I'm drinking this crap again," Hermione said glumly, her chin on the table and her hand firmly attached to a glass holding the aforementioned crap.

"Where's Malfoy, Hermione?" he said with a raised eyebrow, pretending to know more than he did. She looked from the glass to Ron with murderous eyes. She sighed and drank the blue butterbeer in a single shot.

Harry furrowed his brow, worried slightly at Ron's destructive influence. "Ron, is your new mission in life to kill everyone's liver?" he said.

Hermione did something between a snort and a scoff. Ron and Harry looked at each. "Hermione, talk to us," Harry said in his caring tone. He'd always been able to talk to Hermione, sometimes more so than Ron. It should be only fair she talk to them now.

Her chin was back on the filthy table in defeat. "I slept with him," she said, her voice slightly slurred by the blue concoction. She had said it so effortlessly too, like it didn't even matter.

But Ron opened his eyes so wide, she thought he was having a stroke. Harry wasn't all that shocked. Ron refused to speak the rest of the day, his face locked on that shocked expression.

"So… Was he that bad?"

"No! Not at all, not that I have anything to compare it to."

"Then?"

"I'm surprised you're taking it so easily."

"Well I'm worried," he said and leaned in to whisper. "Were you careful?"

"Nope," she said as if nothing, not even caring. "No point right? We're destined to be together and all that hooey. Children are inevitable."

"Hermione, don't sound so defeated. It's just the beginning, not the end."

"Hmm. He wants me to run off with him," she said with the same monotone expression, playing with the blue liquid. At this, Harry froze and joined Ron in shock. "Oh calm down. It'll be next year if anything. He's getting away from his father, from Voldemort, from the Death Eaters… He wants to take me with him. I have no choice. If he stays, they might even kill him. If he goes without me, this Veela thing could kill us."

She sighed and got up, leaving them staring off into the void she once occupied. She thought of Christmas. She still didn't have a present for him. Harry and Ron's had been wrapped in her trunk for a month. But Draco's, she had no idea. He had such special tastes. He was not easily impressed.

So she scavenged her mind for what she knew he would like. And she found it. She'd need to go to a few stores for this one. When she finished, she headed back to meet up with Ron and Harry. They were still sitting in the same table, talking about something silly she was sure. As soon as she sat down, the shut up. And then she said, "Alright, I need your help," and she grabbed the vial of blue liquid from the center of the table.

-----

Draco got home around dinner time. His meeting had gone longer than he had wanted. He was tired and his mind was too jumbled to feel anything Hermione might be feeling a short distance away. A thud sounded on his door a few minutes later. He called out for anyone to answer but he got only silence in return.

He pulled open the door and there was Hermione, collapsed on the ground.

"Christ!" he yelled and pulled her in. He felt horrible for not realizing she was ill in time. He could have sensed it! "Hermione! Wake up!"

She began to open her eyes. "Oh good, I made it. Couldn't find the blasted place," she mumbled, drunk.

"Hermione, what did you do?" he asked, worried, resting her head on his lap and closing the door with his wand.

She closed her eyes again and smiled. "Hmm… Did you hear?" she asked.

He felt horrible and gulped. "Yes," he lied. "I felt you pulling." He hoped she didn't remember his words in the morning. "Why, dear? Every time you hook up with your friends, you end up drunk. Frankly, how the bloody hell did you people take out Voldemort in this condition?"

He carried her onto the bed and did the sobriety spell he knew wouldn't work. She was sweating profusely. "You know, you have extremely creepy eyes. They're cute when you're worried though."

"Why is it you only compliment me when you're drunk?"

"Noooo defenses," she mumbled against the pillow as she turned on her side. "You could take me right now."

"Yea well a drunken decision doesn't count as a logical one." He began to get her out of her bulky robes.

"I'm always logical!"

He sighed and looked down. The vial was still in her hand, half-empty. "Damn it!" he yelled through gritted teeth. "Now I can't go through the bet. You can't take a potion on top of alcohol."

"Talk to someone else. See Ron and Harry," she said, holding onto her head. He made a look of repugnance. "Go on! They're enemies, right? And you can at least trust they won't do anything… weird."

He raised an eyebrow, kissed her forehead and ran out of the room. He found Harry and Ron with a group of students just before they entered through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

He pulled them away, ignoring the evil eyes on the other students. "I need your help," he whispered. Harry and Ron looked at each other then back at Draco and laughed so hard, they had to hold onto the wall for balance. "Oh bollocks," he said.

"You're mad a hatter, Malfoy," Ron said, still slightly drunk himself.

Draco noticed it and said, "Well you're obviously not going to be able to help. Potter, you're my only hope." Harry stopped laughing and gulped. "Hermione could get hurt if you don't help."

He sighed and said, "What do you need?"

Draco pulled two vials of polyjuice potion from his pocket and held them up between them. "Hope you didn't have any plans tonight."

-----

Hermione woke up two hours later alone in Draco's room. She sighed and went to get up, the darkness in the room a wonderful relief to her throbbing head. She went to the bathroom and showered quickly, trying to get the heat of the booze out of her.

She left the bathroom in a towel, reaching for her robes by the bedside when Draco came in. "Whoa," he said and covered his eyes.

"A little late for modesty, isn't it?" she said and smiled, letting the towel fall to get dressed.

"Oh God, please don't do that," he said. "You're driving me crazy."

"Hey, I thought we got over this," she said, walking to him in nothing but her underwear, her long hair wet and messy around her. "It's fine."

"Uh, no I'm…" he began but she had kissed him. "Er… Hermione?"

She wouldn't let him talk, kissing him as he had kissed her the night before. Maybe it was the alcohol still in her system. Maybe she'd rid herself of her past life the moment she'd said yes last night. Maybe she just wanted him, as she knew she was in all her right to.

He was resisting, she could tell. And then, after she led them towards the bed, something lit up in him as it had the night before. Her hands found her back and drew her in. She backed away and his eyes had turned to gold, a ravaging desire finally inescapable within him.

He slowly laid her back on the bed, as if still reluctant, and said, "Please… stop me," before having his unrelenting way with her.

-----

The morning after, Draco woke up in the Gryffindors' boys dormitory as if something were missing. He could start feeling the potion's effect drift away through his bloodstream. He could feel easiness in Hermione, as if someone was with her, and yet he felt it was not him and pain started through him.

He dismissed it but got up from the bed to the mirror against the wall. "My God, that's green!" he said to himself at the sudden image of Harry looking back at him. The pain in his chest returned.

_I've got to see her_, he thought and made his way towards the distant hallway that housed his room, not really expecting to see her yet somehow knowing it was exactly where she was. _Oh dear, what's wrong? Please let her be alright._

And as soon as he opened that door and looked up, his heart regretting it before he even saw them: Hermione naked in _his_ bed with her best friend, one leg over him as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

He shut the door behind him so roughly that both jumped out of bed.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" she yelled, covering herself and jumping out of bed.

"Oh thank God you're here," the man in the bed said.

"What?" she asked him, eyes wide open.

"What did you do?" Draco asked him with sheer shock.

Hermione looked at him then back at the boy in Draco's body, in Draco's bed, and said, "Oh bloody hell," and sat down on the bed with utter shock on her face.

"Did you… Did you sleep with her?" Draco yelled.

Harry nodded slowly, afraid even. "I couldn't stop!"

"What?" he yelled back.

"Hermione, how could you not tell?"

"I told you to stop me but you wouldn't. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it," Harry told her. "The damn Veela thing took me over, I swear! I would NEVER otherwise. No offense."

"Oh my God, what I have done?" she whispered, staring distantly into nowhere, holding up the sheet at her chest.

Harry quickly got dressed and said, "Uh I better leave you two alone." And he left with his shirt in hand.

A few minutes after he left, Draco finally moved towards her on the bed. She shivered as he sat beside her. She couldn't stop herself from thinking he was Harry. And then he put a hand on her bare back and traced her spine. She looked away. He smiled reluctantly.

"You alright?" he asked, looking at her caringly.

"How can you ask me that?" she whispered, staring at the floor before her.

"I know it wasn't your fault. I will be neutering Potter though."

"You switched places?"

"You were drunk. I couldn't give _you_ the potion. There was a 24-hour deadline. You told me to do it! Just be glad it wasn't Weasley."

She scoffed and looked at him deathly. "God, I feel horrible," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"I shouldn't have left you drunk. I should have blown off the bet but I'd just come back from Hogsmeade and I just--"

"How could I not tell it was you?"

"Well it was only your second time. I understand. It's him I'll want to kill with my bare hands soon as this potion's done."

She looked at him worried. He smiled but it was Harry's face and the hand on her back gave her a sudden urge to vomit. "Don't-- Don't touch me. Not looking like that."

"Why aren't I mad?"

"You're in Harry's body. He doesn't care about me that way. Draco… are we gonna to be ok?" she said and let out a tear.

"Depends on how I feel in a few hours. Depends on whether you let me touch you again without thinking of _him_."

She turned a single tear into two and soon she was silently crying, something Harry could feel as he walked around the lake like a bullet to his heart. She was crying, and he knew he was at fault. He wanted to tell himself he didn't enjoy it. But while at first he had tried to stop himself with every ounce of force in his body, he had given in to her kisses. And he couldn't help but wonder if it was the Draco in him or if the easiness he felt around her was more than just friendship.

-----

Hermione didn't stay the day. Draco slowly turned back into himself, which felt glorious and horrible at the same time. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror quite the same, which ruined his favorite pastime.

When Hermione saw Harry as himself for the first time that night, she felt the regurgitating urge rise in her again. She wondered if it came with the Veela instinct but she had never thought of Harry before. Of that, she was sure.

Once she had cared about Ron but that was gone, like a memory so distant that you only remember because others tell you it happened. That's all memories were to her now since she couldn't get passed that one moment in time.

"_Stop me,"_ he had begged. It kept playing in her mind but Draco had asked her the same thing before… before the potion, before he let her into his room, his bed.

And she had betrayed him.

She felt horrible, no matter if Draco seemed fine. She knew it had been the potion. She knew neither was really at fault. But she had let herself open to sex and now it made her sick to think of it, with anyone. No one was who they said. Everyone was a slave to their hormones. And now wherever she saw, she felt like they were raping her with their eyes.

Then she thought of Harry, how he was taking it. It was he that had been caught in the act against his will. If anyone was worthy of claiming rape, he could. She went into the boys' dormitory later that day where Harry slept on his bed, a pillow over his face.

"Harry?" she said and sat down in the bed beside his, her hands nervously on her lap.

He lifted the pillow from his head and gave a little jump. "Hey. You ok with Malfoy."

"Pretty good, I imagine. He can't feel jealousy in your body. You never saw me that way."

"I didn't? He was sure he didn't care?" he asked almost urgently.

She seemed a little taken aback and squinted madly. "What do you mean?"

"I swear I had never thought of you that way but after I left that room, my God all I wanted was to go back. I'm so sorry Hermione. But if that's what Malfoy deals with every day, he's a bloody saint not to tie you down in that room and never leave."

She gave a really sad laugh and started to get up. "He said he might feel like choking you or killing you or something silly like that so you might want to steer clear for oh… a few years. I'll see you at dinner, if I even feel like food. No offense."

"None taken," he said miserably and put the pillow back over his face. "Oh! And tell Malfoy the tattoo looks fabulous."

She smirked and walked out of Gryffindor Tower. She went to the lake for some quiet, but ended up missing her walks with Draco, what was to be their second kiss and the moment it became it later.

She didn't know why but something was pulling her towards the bridge. Suddenly, the calling got stronger, so strong she found herself running against her will.

In the distance, she saw it: Draco standing on the railing of the bridge, his arms wide open as if catching the wind.

"Draco!" she yelled. "Stop!"

By the time she got to him, he had stepped down. Oh thank God, she thought, hugging him.

"What's wrong?" he said as if nothing.

"Are you insane? Don't jump!"

"But I have to. I--"

"No! It's not worth it. Harry felt nothing. It was just a mistake!"

And then he smiled. "Hermione, it's the next task of the bet: jump off a bridge. I'm not trying to kill myself. My broom's right here."

She pushed away and looked at him crossly, breathlessly from her run. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope," he said with a smile.

Her tired eyes looked off into the water. Her head throbbed from the butterbeer the night before. "You know what? You've got the right idea. Come on. Let's jump."

He lost the smile and raised a dangerous eyebrow. "Hermione… what are you doing?" he asked as she stepped up wobbly onto the railing. "Dear, you're scaring me."

"Get up here," she toyed with a devious smirk.

He looked around. They were alone. So he sighed and got up beside her, grabbing her hand in his left and his broom tightly in his right and at the count of three, they jumped.

Hermione had closed her eyes, knowing he would grab her, and feeling the air rushing around her. When she opened them, she was standing on his broom, hugging him tightly and crying uncontrollably, like she had yet to do. While the Veela instinct gave him pain, usually mortal had Harry been in his own body, she felt a great sadness over her. The knowledge alone could have killed her.

"Don't ever do this again, you hear?" he whispered into her bushy hair.

She sniffed and said, "Don't ever leave me again. Please."

He flew them back to the bridge before responding, "I want you to move in."

"What?" she said and stepped off the broom a foot before they landed, nearly falling back.

"Get your things and move into the room. I've arranged for us to leave this summer. We've a little flat in London for now, in case we have to run, but one of my mansions is ready for us in Edinburgh in case it's too small. This is forever, Hermione. You know it is. And I can't imagine it any other way but you have no idea how I feel right now. It hurts, granted not as much as if he had been in his own body, but it truly burns, Hermione. It burns," he stressed, holding onto his heart with a clenched claw.

"Never again, I promise."

"You have no idea how much it takes for me to forgive you right now. And you have no idea how much your smile brings me back."

At this, she smiled and looked down. "Alright," she nodded. "I'll move in with you."

"What was that? It was hard to hear you over the echoing," he played.

"I'LL MOVE IN WITH YOU!" she yelled at the top of her lungs with great happiness to be able to yell.

He laughed and wrapped his hands around her waist.

"And I love you," she whispered.

He smiled brilliantly and kissed her, but she couldn't kiss him back. Her lips quivered upon his and she had to break away.

"No," she whispered. "I can't…" And she ran away, leaving his heart to turn to ash without her.

-----

Draco couldn't stand not having her in his bed. Without her there, he couldn't even go near it. He paced back in forth, looking at its mangled sheets and his heart not only turned to ash, it set the entire room on fire. The heat was killing him. He wondered if it was just him, considering it was a few days till Christmas.

Her gift was wrapped on the chair by her towel. He couldn't look at that either, and yet he found himself staring. He couldn't calm down, couldn't think what he was going to do now that school was over. He didn't have anywhere to go since he'd turned his back on his father, and now for what?

He tried to keep calm about it but maybe it was too much for him to hold in. She had told him during bed that he could never do anything to her, but she had managed to kill just a little of what soul he had left, what soul his father hadn't killed.

He couldn't stay in the room. He stormed out and walked the halls, dwelling in angry thoughts. She'd be leaving today, no doubt. She'd be going home. But how could he make her understand it was ok, that he didn't care?

Then it hit him. What if she couldn't handle that it didn't mean that much to him? Was that it?

He found himself in front of the Great Hall during dinner, pacing at the entrance. Just when his rage had reached its height, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came down the hall.

"You!" he yelled, followed by some obscene cursing. And he came storming in their direction until before he knew it, he had swung at Harry so hard that he had landed on the floor. "You weren't supposed to care about her! You were supposed to have cheese for balls! She won't even kiss me because of you!"

"What?" Harry yelled in-between attacks at his jaw. He got tired of it and punched back. "I didn't mean for it to happen! You know I didn't, 'cause you felt what it was to be me."

Draco stopped, wiping the blood from his lip. "Draco, what are you doing?" Hermione came up behind him, tears welling in her eyes.

He looked around at the gathered crowd, at Harry who bent over to catch his breath, and sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, man. It hurts me if she hurts. I can't stand it," he said and looked to her. "I love her."

The crowd began to gasp and whisper, eager to receive gossip even if it was just as school ended. Hermione looked around and felt like she'd just swallowed a breadbox. "Stop this, Draco," she said, contemplating public denial.

"Stop this, Hermione. I don't care you slept with him."

The gasps got louder and the whispers turned into background noise at a football stadium. "You shouldn't have done this," she whispered. He heard her loud and clear.

He stepped closer and put a hand on the small of her back to draw her in, kissing her right in front of everybody. She pushed away roughly. It hurt more than a simple shove. It was as if she had hit him across the chest with a shovel. They just stared at each other until the professors came and scolded the crowd away. For him, it was as if the world had slowed and nothing existed but her. And then she was gone. And he was let down again.

-----

He went back to his room a defeated man and there she was, sitting on the foot of the bed, looking down. Beside her feet, a trunk full of books, no doubt. He smiled. No matter how sad or angry they were, they were tied to each other.

"You know," he said nervously fumbling with his hand. "I've never been happier it was you… My father never made my mother happy, even after I was born. She was bound to him, knowing all too well the kind of man he was. Don't let me become him, Hermione. Please tell me you haven't left me."

"I can't leave you," said a distant voice. "I want you to hate me, Draco."

"What? Don't be silly. I can't hate you."

"Then I don't know what to do. How to feel."

He sat down beside her. "Don't. Don't feel. Become a heartless monster that tells his girlfriend's best friend that he has cheese for balls."

She hid a little laugh. "What are we going to do for Christmas? I need to get away from this place."

"Why don't you go home? Stay with your parents a bit. I'll be here waiting."

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"Well McGonagall gets a bit flirty after a few bottles of Scotch but I think I can fend her off."

She kissed him on the cheek, which caught him off guard, and they went to sleep, actual sleep, in their bed that night.

-----

**To be continued:** _The tides will turn and Draco will have to convince Hermione that while she is destined to spend the rest of her life with him, it's ok to love again and not feel the guilt and pain that he was absolved from. And sometimes, it's ok to hate the person we love. It would be unnatural not to at some point, but you move on and remember it only lasts a minute. Love, and not lust, last forever… unless your great-great-great-great grandparents were a little too comfy with a Veela… or hippie. _

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**REVIEW!**


	8. That Which Binds Us

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART EIGHT

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I'd like to dedicate this chapter to _xDeleted_, _Dark x Sorrow_, and _HydeHijacktGacktJess_ for mentioning I didn't actually tell you where Draco got his tattoo. This proves to me that someone is actually paying attention to all the little details. Don't worry. I left it out on purpose for the end. I love you guys and all my fans, and don't forget to add me to your story alert lists to know when the next chapter comes out. And please! **Review!**

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Hermione sat on the edge of the lake, looking off into the sunrise the next day. Everyone was probably packed and eager to leave but she couldn't think of days without Hogwarts, no matter what she told Draco. She wondered how their distance would affect her now that they had "bonded".

The Veela instinct was not one to mess with. From what she'd read, even a night apart could cause night tremors so severe that mates and Veelas had to be hospitalized. But this had all been before the bonding.

"Hey," Ron said, walking toward her bundled like an Eskimo in a classic Weasley sweater, and she snapped out of her delusions. "Are you staying or no?"

She looked over and responded with false glee, "Hey. No I'm not. I'll come early though."

"How's Malfoy dealing?" he asked and sat down beside her.

"How are _you_ dealing?" she said, disregarding Draco's name and looking at him as an all-knowing mother catching her child with a hand in the cookie jar.

He couldn't look her straight in the eye. "Well one of my best friends in the world goes off and shags quite possibly one of the worst bastards that ever lived and claims total happiness so I can't do a thing about it. Then she goes and sleeps with my other best friend 'accidentally' and still claims to love the aforementioned bastard. How do you think I feel?"

"Left out?" she whispered.

He chuckled. "Damn right. If I hadn't had anything to drink, it would've been me, wouldn't it?"

"Don't say that, Ron. You wouldn't have wanted it like that."

"Sometimes I wonder just that," he said then finally faced her. "I think you were right Hermione. I couldn't have loved you, could I? It was a silly childhood infatuation, misguided if anything."

"Oh Ron, I--"

"I think I just liked the idea of having you here for me, to teach and care for me. But no matter what I convinced myself, I can never love you the way he does. I get it. I really do. Harry was graphic enough, actually," he said and grimaced.

She raised an eyebrow.

"He's really sorry you know," he whispered. "And so am I, for being an ass about certain things."

"You weren't an ass."

"Well not to your face, dear." He looked at her apologetically. "And I know you're going to leave us soon and there's nothing I can do but I think it's for the best."

"Ron, it's not like you'll never see me again!"

"You know I won't. Where you and he go, I don't care to know but if he wants to keep you safe, you'll have to cut us out."

"I can't do that. I just can't."

"Too bad, because it's for your own good. You're not my Hermione anymore, not that you ever were. It's time you start a new life, love," he said and looked away. "You know I actually envy you. It's nice to be told who you'll be spending the rest of eternity with. I'll be lucky if I don't get divorced after a year."

She scoffed. "Don't be silly."

"And I'll miss you... when you do go. And your omniscient ranting."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek then got up and walked back to the castle, leaving him with his thoughts. It would be a while before any of them got back to the way they were, though right now, none ever thought it would come to be.

-----

Draco sat on the edge of his bed polishing a spear when Hermione came in from the cold. He greeted her with a smile and continued polishing. She saw the spear and paused in mid-step, mere inches from the doorway.

"Ugh… Where'd you get _that_ thing?" she asked.

"Closet."

"You keep spears in your closet?" She took off her scarf and gloves and put them on the coat rack.

"Well, yes, doesn't everyone?" he said and smirked. "It's for the final task of the bet, darling."

"Oh God, the final is here? How bad is it?"

"Steal ink from the lake monster," he said. She looked horrified. "Oh don't worry. I won't kill it."

"Draco, that's ridiculous."

"Isn't it all, love?"

"You'll be killed!"

"Don't be silly. Maimed maybe, not killed."

"How is it you can joke about these things?"

"It's called being stupidly reckless, dear. You're used to those silly little wimps you hang around who fight for the greater good. It's different in Slytherin. You're fearless for different reasons, mainly family honor. It's stupid, I know. But what can you do if not fight a little sea monster for it?"

She still furrowed her brow but couldn't help smirking as she saw him standing beside the spear. "You look like Captain Ahab, I hope you know."

"Me? Really, well I suppose so. Though I hope you know you just called yourself a whale."

"Are you obsessed with me, Mr. Malfoy?"

He didn't really respond, simply shot her a look that pretty much said, "You damn well know I am, you silly git!"

She smiled and went into the bathroom. "Draco, how much trouble do you think we'll get in if Dumbledore found out I'm sleeping here?"

"He already knows," he yelled for her to hear in the other room.

He heard the distant dramatic sputter of toothpaste and smiled to himself, sitting back down on the bed to think for a bit.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she yelled back.

"No point?"

"But how can he be ok with this?" she said, coming out of the bathroom with a towel in hand.

"Darling, we might as well be married. He can't do anything to break this up. Why would he want to anyway? And don't forget he owes me for the insider Death Eater knowledge I fed him," he said, lying back on the bed. "He asks how you're doing all the time."

Hermione felt like jumping in bed beside him but wouldn't dare. She found herself staring at him and looked away quickly, to no spot in particular. Her own guilt still stunted her desire.

"I leave today," she whispered, knowing he could hear her but hoping he wouldn't.

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I know."

"You'll be staying here, then?"

"Hmm. You'll come back, won't you?"

"Of course. It's just a week or so, Draco."

"I don't know if I can last that long."

She scoffed. "You're pathetic." He made a knowing gesture and went to get up off the bed to grab the spear. "Please don't go," she said, holding back sobs as she grabbed his arm on his way past her to the door.

Her touch was cold on his skin. It sent foreboding throughout him in the form of a shiver that made him grip his spear so tightly, his knuckles turned white. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I _have_ to."

"I'll be gone when you get back."

He stood there for a moment, the hand still on his arm killing him slowly inside. He raised her chin to face him and kissed her roughly on the lips, as if trying to take a piece of her soul with him, then pulled away towards the door, not daring to look back.

When he came home that afternoon, most of her things were gone, the bed had been made and all that remained of her was the smell of her perfume on the sheets. He sat on the bed and felt the cold slap of loneliness… to have loved and let go a deeper cut than he had ever imagined.

He knew she'd be back but the bed felt so cold without her there beside him that night that he had to get up to find more sheets. On his way to the closet, he looked to the small vanity by the window and winced. A piece of parchment lay folded against the mirror. He wrapped the blanket around himself and sat on the bed to read it:

_Draco, _

_I'm sorry I went without saying goodbye. That kiss was hardly enough for us. I know in time, all this hurt will fade away and you can look at me the same way you did on our walks by the lake but we need this distance. I'm being smothered by our time together, Draco, and I know you are too. It happened too quickly, too forcefully for me to handle. But I think, in what I've learned of the way we were, what's yet to come will prove us timeless._

_Yours to no end,_

_Hermione_

He refolded the letter and put it back on the vanity, just as she'd left it. By God, it even smelled like her. He went back to bed a little more troubled but unable to stop smiling. She hadn't given up on them, not that she could.

He kept repeating a single sentence in his head, trying to find some other meaning. "I'm being smothered by our time together…" That line killed him. She was right though. He had time to deal with their inevitable fate, a lifetime even, but she had only weeks with the news.

So quickly, she had given her heart to him without remorse. Perhaps, it _had_ been too much too soon. He knew he would be happy with her eventually. He was not his father. He would never trap her in this. If he couldn't make her happy, he'd be miserable himself.

But he had trapped her without letting her see the rules of an eternity together. Jealousy was taboo. There would be no point. He knew his father had his whores and wondered often if his mother knew. If she did, he wouldn't be surprised. She had made herself numb to his treacheries long before he was born.

That's when he heard Hermione calling to him.

"Draco, don't worry," the voice in his head sweetly said. "I know I can trust you, even if you can't trust yourself."

He wondered if he had fallen asleep. He figured he had when he began to see her face beside him in bed. "Hermione, is that you?" he whispered back.

"Yea. I called out for you in my dreams and here you are."

"Oh thank God! I miss you already. I found your letter."

"I heard," his dream said. "I didn't mean for it to hurt."

"No," he whispered back, caressing her phantom face. "But please. Come back to me. I can't stand it. It's like a constant humming telling me you're away. It hurts, Hermione, and I don't know how to stop it."

She smiled and drew closer to him, passing a gentle hand from his stomach to his back and pulling them closer. "I know how."

-----

Hermione woke up that night with a strange feeling of comfort, as if she didn't want to get up. She looked around and saw her old bedroom where she spent nights reading by candlelight and all her ridiculous stuffed toys and still she couldn't help thinking of Malfoy. It was driving her crazy.

She walked down to the kitchen where her parents were enjoying their breakfast. Actually, it was a lunch but she didn't care nor noticed how late it'd gotten.

"What are you going to do today?" her mother asked extremely chipper. "We could go shopping or see around town."

She felt like going back to bed. "I don't know, Mum. Up to you."

Her father looked up from his newspaper and said, "Why don't you go out tonight? Just you. You look tired of people."

She smiled. Her dad could always tell when something was wrong. She grabbed a piece of toast, said her goodbyes, and headed out the door. A few seconds later, the door opened again and she stormed back in. "I'm in pajamas," she muttered to herself as she ran back up the stairs to change.

Her parents looked at each other worryingly. "You think it's that Ron boy she's always complaining about?" her mother asked.

Her father turned his vision back on his newspaper and said, "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

Hermione spent the day in town, admiring the complexity of Muggle-dom, watching them deal with day-to-day life without elves to do their handiwork, without a wand to direct their malice, without wrongful spells and destinies and hormone-induced love. She returned home that night even more sour than when she left but a little less heart-struck.

She walked the corner into her neighborhood and stopped in mid-step. Police cars surrounded her house, sirens still ablaze. She ran towards her parents waiting outside, talking with two officers.

"Mum! Dad! What's happened? Are you alright?" she yelled.

"No we're fine," her father said calmly.

Her mother was hysterical. "Oh dear, someone broke in! I came in from work and there was a blonde man coming down the stairs," she said.

"Blonde?" was all Hermione could think. She raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Yes, blonde. But I was scared witless and I just beat him over the head with my bag."

"You beat him up?" Hermione said in awe. Her mother was not the aggressive type, at all. She put the probability away in her doubts long enough to smile at herself. She walked to the front door, now ridiculously cordoned off with police tape. She pulled one off and stepped inside when a policeman caught her arm.

"This place is off limits, girly," he said in a strong Scottish accent, looking at her menacingly.

"I live here," she said and pulled away roughly. She didn't like being touched anymore. A hug had to be forced thanks to Draco. "Where did he get in through?"

"We don't know. No doors were jimmied and no sign of forced entry. The only thing open was a window in the second floor, a bedroom."

She raised her eyebrow again. "He came in through a second-story window?"

The policeman nodded and at this she ran into the house, up the stairs to her bedroom. Nothing had been touched, but her window remained open. The cool night air blew her sheer curtains gently about. And she saw it: an expensive broom, ready for flight, nestled against the wall by the window.

"Draco…" she whispered to herself and smiled. The image of her mother beating up Draco Malfoy would forever haunt her imagination.

She opened her eyes wide and ran back downstairs, nearly running into her parents. "Where did they take him?" she asked frantically.

"County jail, I'd imagine."

"Oh bollocks," she whispered to herself, ignoring her parents' worried faces.

-----

Draco awoke next morning, holding onto his head to keep his insides from spilling. "What the bloody hell does that woman keep in her purse? Bricks?"

"Books, actually," a gentle voice came in with the sunlight.

"Hermione?" he whispered, trying to look but finding the burn of light strike him back down.

"I leave you alone for a day. A day, Draco, and you wind up in jail," she said with a sigh and sat across him on the bench in the cell.

"Well you should take it as a sign that you should _never leave me alone_!" he said painfully through gritted teeth. "So this is Muggle jail, eh?"

"No Dementors, at least… unless you count the decomposing food," she said seriously. "I should just leave you here, you know."

"I know," he said more to himself than her. "Hermione, did you call me last night?"

"What?" she said, stricken that he would raise the subject of their dreams.

"I dreamt of you last night. But I could have _sworn_ it was you."

She tried to hide a whimper and a gulp. "Don't be silly."

"You dreamt it too," he said with a smile, sitting up in the cot and looking horrified at the gathered grime.

She looked away and remembered how she loathed the policeman's touch. How she longed for his right now. "It was a nice day. I would have liked a few more like it."

"I'm sorry, love. I'll leave again if you want."

She didn't look up, merely said softly, "You said you have a mansion nearby Hogwarts, right?"

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I do. What are you thinking?"

"My parents are back home. I'd like to spend a few more days with them. You're welcome to join us. And then I'll go with you."

His smirk faded. He wasn't clear on what it entailed to spend a few days with her parents. He wouldn't know how to behave. He wasn't even sure if he could control himself around her. "I'll find you in a few days then," he whispered.

But he never came.

Christmas passed and she spent it sadly waiting by her window. He hadn't come to her in her dreams so she stopped sleeping. Christmas morning was so slow and dark to her. She didn't know why she wasn't worried or afraid, simply empty. It was a feeling like she was suddenly conscious of the skin above her heart and its immense weight pulling on her.

Strange how an empty space could mean more than the spot he once occupied. And still, she had no reason to be angry. She had wanted time with just her parents and now she had it.

Two days after Christmas, she got a letter from Harry and Ron. They wondered how she was and invited her to the Weasleys' for dinner. She didn't think twice before folding the letter into her pocket and bidding her parents adieu.

-

When she arrived, the house was in an uproar. Everything was lively but no one was around. She cautiously stepped into the backyard and a smile found her for the first time in days. Mrs. Weasley gave a happy shriek and came to greet her, calling out to Ron and Harry that she had arrived.

They ran to hug her joyously, even Harry who had not been able to look her in the eye the same way. In that instant, all was forgotten. She felt blissful, but the empty space lingered.

The boys took her into the kitchen to talk and catch up beside some food, but the instant Ron set a glass of soda in front of her, she burst into reluctant tears. Harry gulped and Ron went to hug her but it didn't comfort her at all.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked, placing his hand atop hers. She couldn't even feel it.

Ron broke away from their hug and asked, "What did the idiot do now?"

"Nothing! Nothing I should be mad at, at least. I needed space. I needed to get away. And he was supposed to find me to take me with him to his mansion for Christmas but he never did," she said in-between sobs. "Ugh, I knew I should have left him in jail."

Ron and Harry looked at each other with furrowed brows. "Jail? You know what? We don't want to know," Harry said.

"Hermione, it'll be fine," Ron said, sitting down across from her. "You can turn him into a ferret when we get back to school. Know what? I'll even do it for you!"

"No Ron, it's not like that. I don't even know if I'm angry or sad or worried. A part of me couldn't care less that he's gone and another misses him so much it hurts."

"I can tell you it hurts him to be away too," Harry said caringly, reliving his episode in Draco's body. "It must be killing him to have stayed gone so long."

"He can rot in hell for all I care," she said.

Ron scoffed. "Liar."

"Have you tried finding him?" Harry asked. "You should be able to sense where he is. He can sense you, after all."

She squinted at him. "How easy was that to do when you were in his body?"

"I knew exactly where you were, for days after even, like a map is stuck inside my head and a 'She is Here' sticker follows you everywhere. It's got to be mutual, Hermione."

She gulped. "Once, I think I found him in my dreams," she said timidly, trying not to relive what else happened that night. The boys knew she was hiding something.

But just then, Ginny came bursting into the kitchen, anger seeping through her pores. "Hey, Gin. What's wrong?" Ron asked, worried it might be directed towards him.

She looked down at Harry's comforting hand atop Hermione's and hissed through gritted teeth, "Give us girls a minute." As soon as they reluctantly left, she sat down when Harry had sat across from her on the small circular table. "How could you?" she growled painfully.

"Ginny, I--"

"You knew I cared for him!" she yelled, slamming a trembling fist on the table.

"Draco?"

"Harry! You knew I liked Harry and you bloody well slept with him! I thought you and I were friends, Hermione but in the last month, you've left me high and dry and I want an explanation."

Hermione sat forward in her chair and sighed, then began to tell her tired friend the said story of a gamble gone awry.

-----

As Hermione dealt with the repercussions of her fate, in a far away land, Draco sat in a chair in a room lit only by a small ray of light from behind. His only entertainment was the slow drip of his blood onto the grander puddle below. His only moments of consciousness came when his dreams turned worse than reality and he would laugh.

He had once feared losing Hermione without saying goodbye. Now it seemed he would still lose her and his life at once.

It was silly the kind of things one would think of moments from death. He'd never be able to taste sour cream and onion dip at bad summer parties in Dorian Street when he wanted to escape his parents. He'd never turn Crabbe and Goyle into farm animals again just because he was bored. He'd never pretend to read a classic novel just to hide a love letter from his admirers again. He'd never play with the flame of a candle at his family's dinner parties.

And he'd never see Hermione again. At that, he called out with what little strength he had left but it was not enough. He could see her in his mind, smiling back at him. He imagined tracing the skin on her back again the morning after they made love, but he knew that would never happen again.

He looked up slowly at the sound of boots on pavement coming closer.

"Hello, my son," the dark figure said, hovering over him as he had all his life. "It seems you've given us away."

Draco replied rather obscenely and returned to his last thoughts.

"Have they been treating you well?" Lucius laughed, looking at the grid of small burned holes all down his son's naked chest. "Potter and his friends can't find you here. And neither can your little Mudblood girl."

"Do what you want, Father. I don't care," Draco taunted dimly. "Take me out of these chains and we'll see how strong I am. Why don't you just kill me?"

"Oh I don't plan to kill you, dear boy. I plan on reeducating you… in the ways of the Dark Lord."

Draco began to laugh but ended up spitting up blood. "What makes you think you ever had me?"

Lucius' mouth curled into a smirk. He knelt down at the puddle of blood by the foot of Draco's chair and ran his hands through the wet reminder of death. When he rose, his smirk was gone.

"This is what bound you to me, Draco. Your silly connection with the girl will _never_ erase where you come from. And she will move on and never think twice of you because she can never truly accept you as the man you wish to be." And he wiped his hands on his son's face before he went again through the dungeon door, leaving Draco alone with two Death Eater thugs.

The last things he'd hear that night were Cruciatus curses leave both their mouths.

-----

Back at the Weasleys', Hermione had just reached the events prior to Draco's night in jail when her breath gave out and she could no longer take in air. Her eyes opened wide with fear as she choked lifelessly. She held onto her heart, the empty weight now so unbearable that it dragged her to the floor of the Weasley kitchen where she lay twitching in agony.

Her vision turned dark, despite her wide-open eyes, and soon all outside came to stand and watch her die slowly and helplessly…

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**TO BE CONTINUED…**

And now the million dollar question: **What is on Draco's tattoo?** Guess, yes yes? And do **REVIEW!**


	9. All that is Unseen, Reveal

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART NINE

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **No one has guessed Draco's tattoo yet. I've been told The Dark Mark, the Malfoy family crest, a lion, "a frilly butterfly with a cheezy smile and i giant heart that says I love fluffy bunnys and barbie dolls," and a rose on his arse. I'm starting to think some of you are nuts. No worries, love you all! Keep guessing! It's kind of obvious when you think about it actually.

**HINT:** It's something Hermione's really hated in past years.

**THANKS TO:** The c2 "Draco and Hermione FanFiction" for adding me to their list. Much appreciated and you've a fabulous selection.

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A week later, Hermione awoke at St. Mungo's surrounded by everyone except the one she truly wanted to see.

_Draco, what's happened to you?_ she asked herself. But no voice replied. Her mind was empty again and she couldn't stand it. She felt so alone, despite having her friends right there with her.

"Hermione, is he alright?" Ron asked, looking at her distant stare. She didn't answer, merely sat in her hospital bed with her hands neatly folded on her lap.

"You think she's talking to him or something?" Harry asked Ron and at this Hermione snapped up.

A smile curled up onto her lips. "Harry, you're a genius!" she yelled, pulling the sheets off her legs and trying to stand up, stopping herself when she realized the crucial missing ingredient in her plot. "We have a bond right? What if I can expand the existing bond? I could talk to him! Guys, they won't let me out but you can go to Hogwarts and get my books. Please, I'm begging you."

"All of them?" Ron groaned. "There're two trunks full!"

"Then bring the trunks," she replied and crossed her arms. "Look for a book called 'The Journal of the Lost Prophet' and hurry!"

And they boys set off for Hogwarts. Unbeknownst to them that the moment they stepped out that door, Hermione got off the lonesome bed and ran for love in the arms of peril.

-----

Draco slept long after Hermione set out for the Knight Bus that day. He slept as she tracked down the books she needed, as she found the mansion he had told her near Hogwarts. She looked for any trace of him but still he slept. No matter how strong her senses had become, she could not focus the dreams and the cruel reality.

He could not tell if she was real, which hurt more than being alone. He knew if he opened his eyes, he'd have to face the reality of his situation and he couldn't do that. He had to hold on. He wasn't sure why he felt he had to. It was certainly easier to just let go, leave behind all the physical pain.

He cursed his Veela lineage. It would not let him rest. He wondered why his captors had not returned. He wondered if he had died and was doomed to spend eternity going over his dark thoughts, his dark memories. But he knew that couldn't be if all he thought of was Hermione.

He thought of his mother and how she could let his father go through with this. She stood by as Lucius turned her son into a malicious clone. What made him think she would stand up to him now as he killed him? After all, his soul had already slowly rotted away under his father's care. This was just quicker.

_Hermione, please hear me,_ he prayed. _I'm here. I'm still here. Don't forget me._

He didn't even hear an echo. He didn't _deserve_ an echo. He could feel something come near him, a presence, and just pass by him as if he were never even there. He knew if he opened his eyes, he'd be somewhere public so others could witness what happens to betrayers.

He remembered his father's Cells of Aidian. A prisoner could be left tied in a public place, bleeding to death as he was now. He could see out but none could see in. To outsiders, there was nothing before them, empty space if even… complete invert invisibility, and total torture for the poor soul knowing they're inches from salvation and could do nothing but die.

But he still didn't open his eyes. He still couldn't face it. As long as he kept his eyes closed, he never had to face his fate.

-----

Hermione felt the small pull take her to the center of a town outside Edinburgh. She looked around at the buzzing people. So many… like swarms of bees.

And then for a moment, she felt the pull stop. Either she was right there, or she was too late. Right there in the middle of town, she collapsed onto her knees, feeling the beads of shattered glass and stone and dirt breaking skin.

"I can't hear you!" she yelled, through defeated sobs. "Why won't you talk to me?"

-----

Draco's eyes burst open, letting the light of the sun burn itself into him. And there she was. "HERMIONE!" he yelled so loudly that he felt the chair vibrate beneath him.

Nothing. She didn't even move, merely slumped over a few yards from him. He didn't even think about the other people, the ones moving through him as easily as he passed a hand through water.

"Please," he begged. "I don't want to die like this. Not like this."

At this silent prayer, she got up and faced him, her eyes searching desperately through the crowd. "Draco?" she whispered.

"I'm here!" he yelled again. She gasped, holding onto her heart and feeling the pull in new strengths. The shivers felt like needles being jammed into her skin, all over with no mercy or hesitation.

"Say it, Hermione. I know you're thinking it. I can feel it. Say the spell," he whispered, focusing as much as he could on her trembling hands as they reached for her wand.

In front of hundreds of busy civilians, she whispered, "Aparetus," and nothing happened. "I beg you. All that is unseen, reveal."

The black box appeared in the middle of the courtyard, a few yards from her, about the size of Hagrid. Everyone around it began to scream and run but Hermione only let go of her held breath and ran to find a door. None. The box was sealed.

_If there's a way in, there's a way out,_ she thought.

She got tired of looking and began to bang on the walls. "Open, damn it!" she yelled but nothing. She could feel Draco giving up slowly, his heart slowing. "Incendio Paredis!"

And the walls between them burst into ash and fell down around him. His heart jumped as he felt the fresh air enter his lungs. He looked up at her stricken face and started gasping. His whole body had been covered in bruises, in small stab wounds, bones scraped from within. She reached into her pocket for a small piece of folded paper she'd kept for months and wrote with her wand a call for help before folding it again and sending it off with the wind.

She looked around as she helped him keep awake. The Muggles had all gone, disappeared. There was an echoing, ominous silence throughout the town. She held his face in her hands and said, "If it's the last thing I do, I'm getting you out of here. Ok? Damn it, Draco, you couldn't get tortured by pixies or fairies could you? No, you had to be the big man and get beaten up like a sad little puppy."

He smiled but his eyes were too heavy to keep open. She tried to unchain him but the bonds were too strong. She tried to hold back the frightened tears but when she saw his blood in her hands, kneeling down beside a puddle of red death.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She looked up suddenly as his tattered, once handsome face. "What?"

"I didn't believe you'd come."

"Don't worry. I'll wait till you're healed to beat you senseless," she joked, caressing his cheek and wiping a salty tear desperately. "Draco, why didn't you call out? Why didn't you let me know? You cut yourself off from me."

"I didn't want you to feel this. I'm sorry. But how'd you know?"

"I felt the Cruciatus curse, Draco. I was knocked out for a bit, actually, or I would have been here sooner."

"Have I missed Christmas?" he said with the voice of sad little boy.

"We'll have our own Christmas, just you and me." She tried to sound cheery but the puddle only grew larger.

"I'm not going to make it, I'm afraid," he said after a short devastating pause. "Your present's in my sock drawer, by the way."

"You'll give it to me yourself."

He seemed a little angrier at her sad attempts to cheer him up. "Stop it! I won't stand in your way. I want you to hate me, Hermione. Hate me so you'll be able to go on after I'm gone."

She scoffed but choked on tears. "I couldn't hate you. Even when you were being a prat, I couldn't hate you."

"Don't lie. I know you do. I can feel it. You hate me inside for what I've stuck you with. You hate you have to face me every morning, that you're meant to stand with me forever."

"Draco, help is coming. Please don't talk like that," she said and gulped then looked around again, feeling a hundred pair of eyes upon them staring helplessly in fear. "Alright. But I want you to hang on. Please!" she said, tears blending into the puddle below them. "If anything… If anything happened to you, I'd just…"

"Yea?" he whispered, striving to open his eyes.

Just as she saw a glimpse of those gray marbles, she smiled and whispered as she leaned in, "No matter what's happened between us in the past or could happen in the future, know that since that night I kissed you in the common room, I can't imagine a day that I didn't think of you. And I love you, not because you forced me into it and not because I have to. You made me want you but I _chose_ to love you. And if you die right now, I don't think I could ever…"

She gasped as she looked up behind them. A squadron of wizards in gray robes flew down onto the center of town, running towards them. She didn't know if they were to be trusted and went straight for her wand. And then she saw Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody lead the charge and a sigh came over her.

"What?" Draco asked, his eyes closed again.

She kissed him lightly and whispered, "I told you help would come."

-----

Hermione paced outside Draco's room at St. Mungo's like a monkey on speed, biting on her fingernails and playing with the hem of her shirt absentmindedly. She didn't cry. She wouldn't dare. It might mean giving up and she couldn't let him feel that.

A little while later and eight nails down, Harry and Ron came running into the wing to hug her.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked frantically.

Ron stopped to breathe and said, "Dumbledore told us where you'd gone. Why did you go without us?"

She sobbed quietly and Harry sat her down onto the bed. "I knew you'd try to stop me, or worse go with me. I couldn't put you in danger, not over this."

"Then you're a bloody idiot!" Ron yelled. Harry shot him a disapproving look. "And we're idiots too! You should have known we'd gone with you to protect you not get in the way!"

"You were worried," she whispered, a statement not a question, a realization on her part.

"Well, obviously!" And she looked away.

"Is he ok?" Harry asked, kneeling down in front of her as Ron paced angrily behind him.

"I don't know," she responded in a distant voice, lost in thoughts. At that, Ron stopped pacing and looked a tad apologetic going to sit beside her. "They're not letting me see him. I'm… I'm really scared… They tortured him… He'd been sitting there for days, hadn't eaten, hadn't slept."

"Oh God," Harry sighed.

"I can't feel anything anymore. He's blocked me out. At least, I hope." She looked down at her poor hands. His blood stained her clothes and had blended with rain that fell on the way to the hospital. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his head on her lap, the chains by her feet and Dumbledore calling out to know who was responsible for this.

Every time, another tear fell.

"Who did this, Hermione?"

"Who do you think?" she said and looked up sternly, anger rising within her. "His father found out he'd switched."

"How could he just do that?" Ron asked, himself more than Hermione.

"Caring is the first thing that goes with turning evil. Family is next, then love," said a voice behind Harry. They all turned to face the dark-hooded man.

"Professor Snape?"

"How is he, Mr. Granger?" he asked, pulling back his hood.

"He's dying. What else would you have me say?" Her tone was cold, something he didn't care much for.

"His mother alerted me of his condition. She'd been trying to stop Lucius but…"

A nurse left Draco's room and sighed. "How is he?" Hermione asked urgently, getting up off the chair and nearly stepping on Harry's hand.

"He could have died. He should have died. He's lucky you found him. And yes, he should be fine. None of the wounds were cursed. I expect they had wanted him to bleed to death. He'd lost so much blood," the nurse said with a face of either true pity or compassion or just grimace for the entire situation. "You should go home, miss. He won't wake for quite some time."

"How am I just supposed to go home? I need to see him. Please…"

The nurse looked back to the room, the door still swinging. "Not now. Tomorrow, find me and I'll let you in."

What seemed like the first smile to her face come and went and she said, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Harry and Ron each grabbed a hand and led her slowly out of the hospital wing. She had become lost in thought, a drone. She didn't even realize they'd arrived at Hogwarts. "What are we doing here?" she asked. "I can't just go back. I can't face school."

"We're not taking you to class, Hermione," Harry began as they walked in the front door. She hadn't realized that class had probably started a day or two ago. "Hogwarts is easier than going home, and it's closer to St. Mungo's. You don't have to face your parents or the teachers or the students. But Dumbledore thinks it's best if you remain in the school where it's safe."

"But I…"

Dumbledore came up to greet them and interrupted her, "He will be moved to our infirmary as soon as he is able, Mr. Granger. You may stay in his room until then and on if you so please. But with Lucius still out there and us with no proof it was him until Mr. Malfoy wakes up, you are safest here. Your parents have already been informed."

She gave a tiny smile and responded, "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate all your help. We both do." She whispered the last bit.

The professor smiled and said his goodbyes. He had a meeting somewhere with some dignitaries or something. She didn't really catch it. She began walking again, her feet not bothering to remind the rest of her where she was going. Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore saw her go and pity fell over them and onto their faces.

Hermione followed her feet to the far ends of the school, to Draco's bedroom. She went inside and slowly shut the door, hoping to see him sitting on the bed with a spear like last she'd said goodbye. The memory brought a smile to her face, but when she turned and saw an empty bed, the smile faded just as quickly as it came.

She went to lie down, even closed her eyes and covered herself in his blankets, but a thought came over her. She got back up and went to his drawers next to the small vanity. She moved her hand to the sock drawer's handle and went to open it but her hand began to tremble. She tried to convince herself it was just curiosity and that she should let him give it to her himself but she pulled that handle anyway.

And there it was, in a red little box with a big golden bow. She smiled and pulled it out and set it on the bed, trying to fight over herself whether or not to open it. Something told her to do it and wondered if it was Draco. So she sat down beside the box and set it on her lap.

"Alright, here goes," she whispered and carefully took off the bow and opened it. It was a music box, wooden with carvings apparently burnt into the cover. She smiled and went to lift the top to hear the song but her hand trembled. Her heart was incessantly fast. It hadn't stopped beating like that since she left St. Mungo's to find him. It was… worrisome.

She saw the blood on her shirt dry up into a brown color so before she opened the box, she put it back on the bed and made her way to the bathroom, folding up her clothes carefully next to the bathtub and entering the shower. She didn't know how long she was in there but she clawed at her skin to take the blood off, the pain, the tear stains…

Her dreams were unfortunately lonely that night. And she never opened the box.

-----

The next morning, she woke up rather late and ran to find her clothes. A bit after noon, there was a knocking at her door. It was Ron.

"Hey, are we going? Harry's waiting downstairs. We'll take you to Mungo's," he said with a smile, which she replied. She felt much better, refreshed and eager to see him.

"Hold on, let me get his present."

"His present?"

"Well he missed Christmas. We never exchanged presents," she said, rummaging through her trunk next to his on the bed. The music box was still on the vanity, still unopened.

She ran out and they headed off to St. Mungo's. The boys still had class and had to leave but their presence there meant more to her than they'd ever know. A thank you was not enough, but unfortunately, it was all she could give at the moment. And they were off.

She went to find the nurse from before and she let her in quietly. He had been moved to a wing, which meant he was good enough to be kept off support. The nurse closed the door and the silence swept in. She gulped and made her way down the wing. Draco's bed was the last in line. He stood out; he was the only blonde and the most tattered.

"Draco?" she whispered as she sat beside him. He was the only one without flowers or gifts by his bed. She was all he had left, all he needed really. "How are you?"

She took his hand but he didn't respond, didn't move. It hurt to see him like that and at the same time, she felt _happy_ to see him again. She liked to think it was his feelings transferring to her, solely because it was comforting.

"I don't know if you can hear me… but I miss you. It was strange sleeping alone in your bed, our bed now. I saw your gift. I couldn't really stop myself. It's lovely. I haven't opened it yet. Something sort of stopped me. I think it was you. I figure we'll listen to it together when--" She choked. "When you're up and about again. Nurse says you'll be fine. None of the wounds were cursed so they should be able to heal them ridiculously fast. I'll never get used to medicinal magic. Muggles are taught to treat it as superstition but here you are. Well again."

She stopped and looked down at her hand. His grip had firmed around hers. She smiled and sighed.

"I brought your gift, by the way. You can't open it yet. It has a second part but I sort of have to demonstrate it," she said with a small laugh and placed the box on his bedside table. "I only missed a few days of class. I'm sure I can make it up. You know me. I'm a genius right? Well, that's what people keep trying to convince me of, right?"

She took out a book, a simple story book from her book bag. It was a romance novel, a Muggle one her mother had been reading over the break. It was a tad trashy but she needed something to take her mind off Draco. For six hours, she read to him. Nurses and doctors had come in from time to time but she'd ignored them and they pitied her circumstance so they didn't ask her to leave.

Around midnight, she felt a light tapping on her head and lifted it off her arms atop the bed. She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep. The chair squeaked as she sat up and his neighbor shushed her.

But she didn't care. He was awake. She thought she'd be ecstatic but she only felt a sudden calm over her and she smiled sweetly, caressing his face.

"Hey," he whispered. "I heard you this time."

"You heard all I've said?"

"No darling. The snoring woke me."

"I do not snore!"

He gave a hard laugh and pushed himself up in bed with a pained expression. "I heard. I heard," he said and tilted his head to look at her.

She smiled and looked away awkwardly. "Stop doing that."

"What? I love to look at you. You've no idea how much I longed to be here with you right now."

Her smiled went away but she still didn't look at him. His eyes drove into her soul like icy beacons looking to know her.

"Draco, I--"

"Shh," he whispered, closing his eyes and laying his head back. "Give it a minute."

"For what?" she whispered back, leaning in to hear what he meant.

He smiled and then there it was. Her heart stopped driving her crazy, her mind no longer lonely.

"Hi," the voice in her head spoke. She laughed.

"How are you doing this? It's clear as day," she said with a smile.

"I'd been working on it before Christmas. I was hoping you wouldn't hear me actually. And then I saw you there. How'd you find me?"

"Magic."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Has anyone found out about this?"

"Nah. They're still rounding up the Muggles that saw you suddenly appear in the middle of a plaza but the school doesn't know, at least I think. They'll figure out something's wrong when they realize we're both absent a bit."

He turned a bit solemn and looked down at their intertwined hands. "Hermione, I can't go back."

"What?" she shot right up, her smile lost.

"I know I said it might be a year but there's no way now. I'm going into hiding. And I'd like you to come with me."

"Draco, it's not that easy. What about school? What about my parents?"

"Dumbledore's kind of got it covered. They won't touch your parents. They're Muggles. And the safehouse is ready for us. Hermione, I've no choice."

"What about Ron and Harry?"

"I'm sorry," he said honestly, tightening his grip on her hand.

She looked back down at their hands and gave what seemed like a small whimper. She looked back up and whispered lightly in his head, "How soon do we leave?"

-----

Hermione walked into the Great Hall in her robes and sat down beside Ron and Harry, ignoring all the stares and whispers. Her face was stern, undeterred. They huddled in and she whispered, "There's been a change of plans, guys. I'm leaving."

"What?" they both yelled.

She shushed them and continued, "I'm sorry but I'll be saying goodbye tonight. You can see me off. We're going to a safehouse and then who knows to where."

"How can you say that so lightly?" Harry asked in his usual worried tone.

"There's nothing I can do!" she hissed. "The bond is stronger now than ever. I really love him. I can't see him off and I can't see him in danger anymore. Look what happened last time he stayed here. We're hiding with the Order and that's final."

"What are we going to do without you?" Harry responded.

"Yea… how are we going to pass school?" Ron said, his eyes wide open in shock. Hermione shot him a cross look. "You know I'm kidding. I'll-- We'll miss you terribly."

Ginny and Neville nodded in. Hermione noticed Harry's hand went to Ginny's waist as she did and raised an eyebrow. She smiled. Harry deserved to be happy and Ginny was the best thing she could think of.

"Do me a favor?" she asked. "Don't lose touch. I'm sure Dumbledore can set up some secret own thing. We might even be able to meet up at summer. It's not over. I promise."

Ginny sniffed and Harry held her closer. Ron shot them a look then went back to Hermione. "Is he well enough to travel?"

"I think so. He woke up last night. He seemed fine, sarcastic and arrogant as usual," she said with a smile. None of the others said anything but they looked deathly.

"We'll miss you, Hermione," Dean Thomas said from a bit away. Apparently, everyone in Gryffindor knew. She wasn't surprised. Others down the table began to nod in agreement. Some even cried and she just smirked. She tried to imagine missing them but couldn't. She'd turned as cold as Draco and because of it, she knew this was not the end.

-----

That night, Harry and Ron said their goodbyes in Draco's room. Everything had been packed and moved to the new house. The only thing that remained was the music box on the table. She wondered why it'd been left behind. She picked it up, desperate to open it and put it in her book bag carefully. She wanted something to read in case they went by train.

She sat down on the bed and waited. But it got late and no one came. After midnight, a hesitant knock came to her door. It was Dumbledore, alone, with a face foretelling death.

"Oh my God, what's happened?" she asked, holding onto her heart.

"There was a break-in at St. Mungo's. They've taken him."

Hermione felt like she could take nothing more and looked away. She didn't want the professor to see her cry, but it was inevitable. Against her better judgment, she hugged the old man and began to sob uncontrollably.

-----

She walked into the boys' dormitory at 2 AM, pulling out her wand and summoning two buckets of water to dangle over Harry and Ron's heads. With a flick on her wrist, both buckets fell down over them. They had tried to scream but she stole their sound and kept it for herself.

They jumped out of bed startled and walked to her. Her face was stern and determined.

"You said you were idiots, right? That I should have called you when they took him the first time, right?" she said softly, her eyes red with grief. "I need you now."

"Sure," Harry said. "What's happened?"

"We're mounting a rescue. Just us three. You in?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other's wet, tired faces then back to Hermione and both said, "We're in."

-----

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

TODAY'S TOPIC TO PONDER: **What is in the music box?** Guess, yes yes? And do **REVIEW!**


	10. The Darkness in his Eyes

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART TEN

-----

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Thanks go to DarkChang for giving me an awesome idea. Can't tell you all what it was but it's gonna change the outcome of this entire kidnapping section. See? It does help to review. Oh! Someone came close to figuring out what the tattoo was. But they were slightly off. Sorry. Try again. _

_And I'd like to welcome all those who followed me here from Coloured Grey. Fabulous site! Do check out ContraVeritas (a Draco/Hermione fansite), for all those that just can't help going against all reasons. Please excuse the relatively short chapter, and see my author profile for my favorite D/Hr photos._

-----

The three escaped Hogwarts that night and found they were not alone. "Ginny?" Hermione whispered at the edge of the lands. "What are you doing here?" The sun had not yet risen.

"You can't leave me behind!" she groaned. Ron shot her an angry, worried brother look and she calmed her tone.

She looked at Harry, who looked away. Hermione caught this subtle glance and said, "You told her, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I told her everything," he responded. Ron looked at Harry crossly.

She could tell this was not all of it. Ginny would not follow them through the darkness alone for no reason. "You meant it as a goodbye, didn't you?" she asked more solemnly. He nodded slowly, still refusing to look Ginny straight in the eye. "Well that I understand. But Ginny, I can't be responsible if anything happens and Harry especially can't. Can you hold your own?"

"It's my choice. I want to go too."

"Yes, I figured. That's why I asked. Just don't get yourself hurt? It might kill the Boy Who Lived and then clichés would just float through the air, and it's bloody annoying."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You've been hanging around Malfoy too long," she said with a slight smirk, going for Harry's hand and walking up the path with the rest.

This caught Hermione like a brick to the head. He had influenced her. It comforted her to know she that a small part of him remained with her even when all she could sense was a far-away beacon of sadness.

-----

Some time later, they had mounted a train. She wasn't sure why but they had to go south. The map in her head would lead her to him. If only she knew if it was worth following. It was just a glimmer, getting stronger as they went.

"So where are we going?" Ginny asked, trying to cheer up the other three.

"Home," Ron said, staring out the window. "We need to borrow Dad's car."

"Are you kidding me?"

"We need something fast to take us there. Dad recently souped up the engines so it should get us wherever we need to go quicker than this ratty old thing," he replied and slid down the seat, his arms crossed and his face solemn.

Hermione looked over at him and furrowed her brow. "He ok?" she whispered to Harry.

He leaned in and responded, "How would _you_ feel if you were him?"

She sighed and answered, "Like crap."

"Exactly."

She shook off all inhibitions and looked out the window at the passing winter scenery. "I'd be in Potions right now," she said to no one and everyone. They all stopped whatever distant conversation they had going to look at her with pity. They knew what _she_ knew: No matter how much they tried, they'd never be the same again.

"Consider yourself lucky then," Ron responded. "No homework."

"Oh Ron, that doesn't matter," she responded, resting her head on the glass to imagine herself closer to the fields of melting snow. "20 years from now, do you think I want to remember all the homework I did for school or do I want to remember the good times?"

"Hermione, I was just--" he tried to apologize.

"You know what I think I'll remember most?" They all looked dangerously aware that she was making no real sense. Their eyes ineffectively hid tears but they let her continue. "Third year when I rode Buckbeak with you, Harry. That was a great ride. You know I hate flying but that sheer feel of danger and spontaneity and riding a living creature with its own heartbeat, its own thoughts? That doesn't come from a broom. That's kind of how I feel with Draco, all the time. My heart doesn't stop running to catch his and my mind just melts off into a distant corner. It's… exhilarating, even when we're standing still. I'd kill to get that back."

Ginny smiled gently but Hermione never saw it. She was too busy following with her eyes the tear that rolled slowly down her cheek in her reflection on the glass.

A little while later, Ron broke the silence. He had been studying Hermione's eye movements as she looked out the window. They were focused, like she was so busy thinking that she wasn't really looking at anything at all. The scenery must have seemed a blur, he thought. "Can you sense him?" he said, which snapped Ginny and Harry to attention.

"He's somewhere wet and dark. He's calling for me, and there's an echo. I think he's in a dungeon somewhere. He still hurts from before but I think he's ok. He's not tied up at least," she responded, still not shifting her glance.

"Anything on a place?"

"It's not too far," she said then turned to them for the first time in hours. "And I'm working on finding out where. But it won't be easy. There's Dark magic in the works."

-

The Burrow was quiet that morning. Everyone still slept, as per tradition on lazy Saturday mornings at the Weasleys'. Hermione didn't notice them sneaking into the garage for the car. She was too consumed in her thoughts, in keeping Draco close. Ginny led her the whole way to the car. Harry and Ron took the front.

"Someone's coming," Hermione said as they mounted the air. "Not here. Where Draco is. He hears footsteps."

"Did he tell you who took him?" asked Harry.

"No, but-- Oh my--" she said and clung to her heart. "I can't hear! It's stopped!" she yelled.

At this, Ron slammed on the breaks and they floated over a small man-made lake near Devon. "Ow!" Harry groaned, hitting his head against the dashboard. The shift had snapped Hermione out of it.

"It's lost," she whispered, looking to Ginny with sad eyes.

"Maybe we should tell Dumbledore," Ron said, seeing her bend forward, as if to throw up, from the car mirror.

"No!" she yelled. "No rescue operative will ever trust a kid to lead the way just because I have a hunch. If we're going to do this, we're doing it ourselves… Draco told me he had a mansion near Hogwarts. Could they have taken him there? What about Malfoy Manor? What if it's not the Death Eaters or his father?"

"Hermione, calm down!" Ginny said, reaching for her hand. "None of us are giving up."

"Ron, if it makes you feel better, here," she said and handed him a piece of folded paper. "Dumbledore probably knows I left. He gave me this piece of paper a long time ago, the day after the fight at the lake when you thought I'd gone missing. He told me to fold the paper into any bird and it'll find him instantly."

"Why hadn't you shown us this?" he responded, taking the folded parchment reluctantly.

"I didn't really think it had a purpose until I saw myself kneeling next to a puddle of Draco's _blood_! He gave it back to me when he told me about the break-in at St. Mungo's." And just like that she snapped her head up to look at that phantom spot she used to think and whispered, "Venice. He's in Venice. Go. Now!"

Ron put on a devious smirk, one that rivaled Draco's, and asked Harry to open the glove box. Inside, there was a single green button. "Press it and everyone hang on," he said and braced himself to the wheel. "Venice!" he yelled and Harry pressed the button. And just like that, they passed over northern France in a matter of minutes, the world passing around them like one giant blur on their way to Italy.

Ginny held tighter onto Hermione's hand but she had gone again to that spot where Draco dwelled as well. "Something's wrong," she whispered. "He won't speak to me. I can only feel his presence… Oh my God, Harry. It's Voldemort. He's there!"

-----

A few moments before, Draco was escorted to his father's study like the events of before had never occurred. His father always made little of everything he did. This time, he'd gone bonkers and forgotten what torture might have on the poor boy's… oh, chances of living.

"Hello, Father," he said through gritted teeth, limping toward him across the vast expanse between the large wooden doors to the father's desk against the back window. The walls beside them were covered with bookshelves filled with dark literature and the floor, a dark mahogany wood that matched the desk in the distance.

"Stop," Lucius said and got up off the desk where he sat going over papers. "Let me look at you. Ah, you've healed sufficiently."

"Sufficiently for what?" Draco asked, pulling away as his father went to touch his cast.

"You know, you weren't this snippy before you found out about the Mudblood."

Draco squinted his eyes dangerously. "Are you sure? Even you can't be everywhere at once. I assure you, I was snippy soon as your arse was turned. Now I just don't bother, seeing as you tried to _kill me_," he said and screamed the last two words, which echoed through the walls of the old Venice house.

Lucius raised an eyebrow and smacked Draco across his left cheek with the back of his hand so hard that Draco didn't bother turning back to face him, knowing he would try it again first chance he got. "How dare you?" he growled.

Draco smiled and touched his cheek with light fingers, turning to face him again. "The question is not how. It is why. And she's waiting for me. So if you're done here, I'd like to walk away from here and never see you again, understand?"

"You'd walk away from your family? After all I've done for you?" Lucius growled. He would not yell. This was slightly worse.

Draco, however, found it hard to restrain his anger. "What part of _you tried to kill me_ do you not understand?"

"You cannot leave us, Draco. And it is not up to me to hold you back. You're already dead to me. Our Lord does not forget so easily," he said and walked back behind the desk to grab a newspaper and throw it closer to Draco. "Death Eater homes are being raided. Objects are being found in places only an insider would know of. We cannot forgive your betrayal or the others you have _made_ lost to us."

Draco took a single step back, fearing the look in his father's eyes. "You don't have to do this."

"I won't be doing a thing," he said and looked behind Draco.

Draco went to turn around but a dark figure was already towering over him. Before he could scream, the light in his eyes went out and he collapsed onto the floor. When he awoke, he sat on the floor, absentmindedly holding onto his arm.

"What is this? What's happened?" he said to no one in particular. His father stood behind a tall creature with slits for a nose and eyes that Draco feared would steal his soul. "Voldemort…" he whispered.

The creature snapped to him. He bent down ever so slightly and lifted Draco up by his collar in one fluid motion. He tore the sleeve off Draco's shirt and threw it to the ground behind him, then gripped his arm with a force that he could feel as the Dark Mark was being burnt into him.

"You will forget your childish allegiances. You have been trained Draco Malfoy. You belong to us from the day you were born and no silly infatuation will change that. You cannot leave us, child. But you will take me with you wherever you go, burning into the depths of your soul until…" Voldemort hissed, leaning in to Draco's frightened face to continue darkly, "you learn you do not betray the Dark Lord."

Pain began to blind him until all Draco saw was the light in the back of his head, the image of Hermione smiling as they walked down the path beside the lake. And then the light went away and Draco was submerged into the darkness.

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When they reached Venice, Hermione practically ran out of the car in mid-air. She found the dock and tried to run but found that the feeling had dwindled too much too quickly and she had no idea where to go. She took two steps east and stopped. Two west, and stopped.

The other three looked on at her madness from the car. Ron sighed and got out of the car. "Should we try a spell?" he asked, standing beside her as she squinted at the buildings in the distance.

"No. No magic can enter a Malfoy's home," she said, not bothering to shift her vision or her actions to face him. "It's probably more protected than Hogwarts. And with Dark magic so don't even think about it."

"Then what?" said Harry.

Ginny walked up behind them and pointed to the sky in the far distance. "We wait for them to find us," she said, horrified.

"What?"

"It's You-Know-Who. I can sense him, because of what happened with the Chamber. He's calling his brethren to bring Harry to him." Her voice trembled. Harry wrapped an arm around her and brought her in to him.

In the far distance, a cloud of what seemed tiny black birds flew to them atop brooms, their coats ruffling through the air.

"What are we going to do?" Ron yelled. "Let's get out of here!"

"No," Hermione whispered. "He's flying with them. They have him."

"So what? We wait to be slaughtered?"

"Take Harry and Ginny and leave. They don't care about me. I can still reach him. He's so close…"

"Hermione, no!" Ginny yelled as Harry pulled her to the car, struggling to run back to her friend.

"I won't leave you here alone, Hermione," Ron said, taking her hand and facing the oncoming front of Death Eaters. "Harry, take my sister back to school. Don't tell Dumbledore where we are."

"But--" Harry began. Hermione pulled out her wand and summoned a wind so strong that it blew him up into the air and into the car beside Ginny.

"GO!" she yelled. Harry started the car and flew out, knowing he had to get Ginny to safety above all else. Had it been just the three of them, he would have stood right there beside her.

Alone, they saw into the distance at the approaching menace. Hermione was frozen, her eyes detached from reality. She was searching for a feeling that couldn't exist anymore. And then they landed. Ron felt his fear turn into a knot in his throat the size of Edinburgh and he squeezed her hand even tighter. It didn't snap her out of her delusions. All she felt was the gentle breeze moving her hair about.

Three of the dark horde in black robes came forward to them. Hermione loosened her grip on Ron and smiled slightly at the figure on the far right. "Draco…" she whispered. The three pulled back their hoods. Two blondes and Voldemort.

Draco smirked sinisterly. "Hello… Mudblood."

Hermione's smile went away. She ignored the Dark Lord's presence and walked right up to Draco, curiously fluttering behind her eyes. "What did they do to you?" she whispered and placed a hand on his arm. She could feel his lingering pain. "The Dark Mark?"

Draco's smirk didn't go away. He pulled away from her and slapped her. He felt the pain in himself, a relapse to what little Veela had not been burned away by the Mark.

Hermione raised a hand to cover her mouth but it could not stop the tears. "No… What have they done?" she yelled. "This isn't you!"

But he was cold and refused to hear. She went to caress his arm but he caught her wrist in his clutches. Ron walked slowly to Hermione, keeping his eyes fixed on Voldemort as if in a trance, instigated by fear.

"Hermione, come on," he whispered in her ear and pulled her away from him. She stared at Draco's cold eyes, looking for that light, even as Ron pulled her back to the edge of the dock.

"I think not," said Voldemort and froze them. "Shall we kill them Lucius?"

"No!" yelled Draco. "If she dies, I die. Leave them to me. I'll make them see our cause, whether they want to or not."

Voldemort did not trust him but knew he could not kill her. The Veela curse had been a meddlesome part of Lucius' indoctrination as well. "Fine. You may keep her as your pet. But we kill the boy."

Lucius squinted his eyes. "He is a Weasley, master. If he joins us, he will give us access to the Ministry."

"I've plenty of access to the Ministry, Malfoy. But I suppose the girl will not come swiftly if we kill her friend. Use him as bait. Bring Potter to me and you may keep her," he hissed with great presence and turned around, his cloak ruffling in the wind.

Draco sneered in the two's direction as they unfroze. He took out his wand, bound their hands with tight rope, and said, bored, "You are our property now. Do as we say and you will live, understood?"

Hermione was unknowingly crying, no matter how strong her face. Anger had found her. Ron looked deathly. He was not used to being brave.

They followed the small horde of death eaters and Hermione mounted onto Draco's broom and Ron with a small pudgy Death Eater's. The winds were harsh but they held onto and suppressed their fears of the unknown until they landed in front of a large house with large gray columns and two wide balconies in the front on the first two of the six floors. The high windows were made of a green-tinted glass so no one could see in and the walls were a yellowing concrete raised above the water. Its front door was a vast sea.

Five Death Eaters began to chant a spell Hermione didn't recognize but paid close attention to. It lifted the charms to the entrance and opened the wide doors, welcoming them to their lavish prison. Draco took Hermione's arm and pointed his wand to her throat. "Come with me. If you resist, I'll kill you," he said, moving the wand towards the door farthest down the right hallway next to the entrance. Hermione looked at Ron as if telling him to be careful. He nodded back as they took him to the dungeons beneath the house.

Draco closed the door behind him and pushed her back on the bed. She could tell this was his room. It was elegant and dark and green, but preserved the childish nature she'd come to love. But this was not her Draco and she could not expect him to treat her as such. Still, she tempted the sleeping beast.

"Draco, what did they do?" she asked as he went to loosen the collar on his shirt. "Why can't I talk to you anymore… the way we could, in our thoughts?"

"Be silent!" he yelled, tossing his shirt to the sofa by the large window. He began to loosen his belt and that's when she got worried.

"Draco…"

"Silence!" he yelled again and stopped bothering with his pants. He stormed to the bed where she sat on the edge and pushed her back, raising her bound hands above her head and kissing her passionately, painfully.

"Draco, stop!" she yelled as he moved to kiss and bite her neck, still holding her arms down above her. "Stop this right now! This isn't you!"

He gave a small growl and parted from her clavicle and said cruelly, "Listen and listen well, girl. Whatever we had was dead. Whoever I played for you to get you into bed was a complete game. I never loved you and I never can. All we had was cursed lust, nothing more. As long as you live here, you are under my protection but you are also my slave. When I want you, I will take you and your permission is not required. Do you understand?"

She looked straight into his eyes and replied his cold gaze with anger but she knew better and whispered, "This isn't you. I know the real you. No matter what you do to me, you cannot make me believe I meant nothing to you. You may not have wanted to but you loved me. And I know deep inside you, you still do. You can do what you want with me. It doesn't even matter anymore."

A flash of light found his eyes and he looked away, confused. He wondered if he had once loved her, for this he couldn't remember. To him it had been a game, a part of the Gamble. But she was so sure she loved him that for an instance, it had hurt him to hurt her.

"Have I…" he whispered. He shook his head and the darkness was back in his eyes.

She knew she could do nothing to sway him from this deception and gave in. She relaxed under him, closed her eyes, and rested back her head, expecting him to continue.

He went to ravage her again, when suddenly…

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**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**For special pictures of our favorite couple, see the links on my author page by clicking on my name, NeuroticMuse413, above. If you'd like to suggest any to my collection, please review. I only like photos of Tom Felton if they are from the third movie and up so please note. **

_See also the current cover of _The Quarter Moon Gamble_, featuring Tom Felton and the original catchphrase for the story, "Some are just born this sexy."_

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**REVIEW! **o.O Now dammit! What are you waiting for? If you got this far, you damn well better!


	11. Memory of a Lost Love

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART ELEVEN

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_This is a very strange chapter. While Draco remains under the influence of the Dark Mark, his own connection cannot help surfacing as he feels the pain he's causing Hermione. They will soon have to make one of the most important decisions of their lives. Will they do the smart thing or listen to their hearts and risk their very lives? Read on..._

**IMPORTANT! There is a sex scene that was cut from the end of this chapter because it was far too descriptive, and it would have made the chapter twice as long (which is why it's a bit short). Instead of cutting it like the first sex scene at Hogwarts, I'm posting it on Coloured Grey which allows NC-17 stories in its full extent. Please look me up there under the same name and same author to read the full story.**

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A feeling of dread overwhelmed Draco, who still remained atop Hermione on the bed, looking down at her welcoming body with eyes full of shock and dismay.

"Hermione?" he whispered painfully and she opened her eyes in anticipation. "What did I--"

She gave a sharp laugh blended with a sob and went to caress his cheek. He winced at her touch but tried so desperately to smile. He began to sweat and breathe heavily as if suddenly overtaken by a fever. He rolled over off her, no longer able to sustain himself on the arms that held her down.

She sat up beside him and hovered a bound hand over his fevered brow. "Oh my God, Draco, what did they do to you?" She ruffled through his pant pockets looking for his wand and used it to free herself of the ropes. She looked to his arm, at the Dark Mark smoldered onto his flesh. It looked like small red veins of poison were seeping into his. His muscles clenched and the sweat was soaking him into delusion.

"Draco, look at me," she said, turning him away from the tall ceiling. "Why is this happening?"

He took a deep gasp and whispered hoarsely, "The curse. The Veela curse."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"He uses-- He uses Veela bonds on the Death Eaters. That's why it's killing me. It's splitting me in two. It's trying to erase what I feel for you," he groaned, staring up and spread out as if crucified atop the large bed.

"No. No, I'm not gonna let that happen," she said, wiping away cold tears. She tried to smile for him but she was worried. "How long before the guards come back?" she asked after clearing her throat.

"They won't. They think you're my slave. They'd never walk in on us. They'll wait for us to come out."

She raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do they think we're going to do anyway?"

"Hey, Veelas can go on for days, ok?" At that, she raised both eyebrows and smirked. "Don't get any ideas, love. I'm kind of dying here."

"Don't say that," she whispered. "You'll be fine. Is there any way to escape the Mark?"

"I don't--" he began but swallowed hard. "I don't know. I'm trying to fight the call but it's just so much easier to give in."

"Don't! Whatever you do-- just think of me, ok?" she said, getting up off the bed to go look at the shelves of books on the wall facing the bed. She stopped for a second to look outside, praying to see her own horde of flying wizards coming to her rescue but no. Harry still had no found Dumbledore and she knew they could not risk the entire fight against evil over three little kids. It'd take more. A lot more.

"It's on the top right," he said without even looking away from the ceiling.

"That's good. Keep focusing on what I'm thinking."

"No Hermione," he said calmly as if the cool darkness had begun to spread sinisterly into his mind. "I can't hear you anymore."

She pulled the book she wanted and ran back beside him. He looked better, which was actually a horrific sign that he was giving up the fight. She knelt down on the bed beside him and opened the book, ruffling and skimming through the pages.

"No, ok? Hold on. I'll find something. I promise. Damn it, you were too good to be true, do you know that? I'm not losing you to these bastards."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" she asked and stopped.

"Letting me love you."

She had to close her eyes for a second to stop the tears. "How many times am I going to have to see you die, Draco, honestly?"

"I'm not dying, Hermione. I'm just… Only a part of me is."

"The part that _loved me_!" she yelled, exasperated, and looked to the door in case anyone heard her.

"I won't stand in your way… if you walk out right now. The hard times have passed. You are free of me. But I wanted to thank you for never treating me like I had to be the best, for not making me change everything I am… for never making me feel like I had to change the world, merely live to see you smile. This is your last chance, Hermione. Leave me," he said calmly.

She smiled tearfully. "Don't be a drama queen. I wouldn't leave you, even if I were your slave, I'd never be happier than with you."

"I wonder if that's what my mother told my father. Look how they ended up."

Hermione furrowed her brow then looked down and smile. "I've found something."

"Don't be silly, Hermione. Nothing can stop the Mark."

"You can. You have a Veela bond already. We just need to suppress one and enhance the other."

"How can you separate two different curses with the same root?"

"By channeling the direction."

"What?" he said and snapped to face her.

"The direction-- Who the curse is directed at. Me or Voldemort. We have to block _him_. We have to make your body believe I'm the only one in your system by blocking his strength over you."

"It's a blood oath, Hermione. There's no way."

"Blood breaks blood, Draco. Get close enough to him to blend a drop of your blood with his and we'll stop the Mark from taking you over. You two aren't naturally bonded. You have already… claimed me. Nothing can break that, remember? Voldemort's just a cheap imitation."

He groaned and sat up slowly on the bed and turned to face her with great hesitation in his eyes. "Well you're definitely the prettier of the two. But are you kidding me? Get close to him, let alone get into his blood? He'll kill me in an instant. Does he have blood? Honestly, he's not exactly human. We don't even know if he can hear us."

"He can't. I don't think. Cheap imitation, remember? He's not like us, doesn't have what we have."

"So are you telling me we have a solution to the bond of the Dark Mark?"

She smirked sinisterly, mimicking his own. He smiled lightly and painfully and went to stand up, having to hold onto the pole of the bed to keep himself from crashing down. She jumped off and hurried to help him.

"It's weakened you," she said and picked up his wand from the bed. "I can fix that."

She reached for her chest and took off her necklace. It wasn't any special necklace. She couldn't remember where she got it from or if someone had given it to her. It was simply hers for as long as she could remember. And that was enough.

She said a strengthening charm above it and placed the necklace around his neck. He took a deep breath and straightened up. "As long as you have this with you," she said, her hands rested on his chest, "you'll take my strength with you."

He raised a hand to her cheek and leaned down to kiss her against the bed pole. It took a moment before they parted. There was always a ravaging effect behind their kisses. This kiss was pure. It sent a calming feeling between them, like the first soft remnant of what could have been before the curse, of what romance he had instigated before that night in the infirmary when all secrets were brought to light.

But when they did part, they did not open their eyes right away, as if basking in the feeling and preserving it in a little box in the back of their minds for dark moments of thought.

His hair had fallen over his eyes as he looked down so Hermione didn't see who she had just kissed. It could have been the boy she danced with in a floor without time, or the cruel creature that had taken her from the dock. But no matter, it was a boy losing a fight for both of them and she couldn't let that happen.

He parted and quickly put on his shirt and pants. She looked behind them at the desk by the window. She left his embrace and brought him back a letter opener from atop the papers. He looked down at it in her hands as she presented it to him.

"Use this," she said and took the handle and his hand and carved a line across his palm. He didn't wince, didn't move, didn't pull away and she looked up again to see through the strands of hair for the light in his eyes, but nothing could penetrate his resolve his nature. "His blood will blend with yours. Stab him if you must. I'll be here saying the spells. Be careful ok?"

"Hmm." That was all he said before he left for the door, his walk the brisk and harsh stride of a man dying inside.

She looked over at the ruffled bed, and the wand left carefully behind atop the sheets.

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Draco never reached his father's study. He never saw Voldemort. And for a very small moment, he thought he'd never see…

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Hermione lied down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, gripping the wand to her chest and saying the spell like a prayer for his safety. It hadn't been 5 minutes when she heard a distant whistling like clothing ruffling in the distant wind. She opened her eyes and in an instant, she felt her heart stop.

A barrage of wizards, just as she had wished, flew across her window so quickly that it seemed like a giant black blur, covering the room in shadow. She gripped the wand even tighter but it did nothing to her nerves.

For the moment, she could think of nothing, not even Draco. She was stuck in the room, even as the house was stormed. Or was it? She had no way of knowing. The spell around the house, to take five wizards to remove, must have been of great strength and great magic, ancient as it was powerful.

Guards watched the door, but nobody stood outside her window. She saw it as her only escape, and in a quick moment of blank thought, she pulled open the glass doors and climbed onto the lattice. She took one last look at the empty room and jumped out, only to find herself back on the room floor.

"They blocked the windows too? Those bastards!" she said to herself.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Draco found her on the floor. "Let's go," he said hoarsely. A great grey cloud seemed to fill the hallway and wanted to enter the room. She ran up off the floor and grabbed his hand, covering her nose and mouth with her other.

She could see nothing through the cloud but let his hand guide her through the vast hallways. She could hear nothing but his coughs ahead. His grip was weakening. The cloud was deathly.

"Draco, what about Ron?" she whispered.

He stopped and groaned. "Alright, fine," he said and they turned around, going back into the deeper cloud. She looked back at the entrance now leaving them through the clouds. She wondered if she'd see the sunlight again. The grey dust was torturing her every pore.

A bit later, after passing a room full of men screaming in the distance, they reached what she heard to be a door opening and felt the rim of iron beneath her feet. After that, their every footstep echoed as if the floor were hollow, until Draco opened another creaking door and pulled her in roughly from the dust cloud. She turned at the sound of the door closing and when she looked to Draco again, he was standing beside Ron.

She quickly jumped to hug him. She could feel he hesitated but returned her hug. When she parted, she saw Draco had the face of a startled dead man or a kid that just happened to walk into an orgy. He didn't like her touching anyone else. He had felt the kiss she had given Ron outside the Great Hall and never looked at the poor shlub again. His eyes were red from the dust so she put her hands to his face and smiled. "Thank you for coming back for us," she said in her loving tone, like the one he'd wished his mother had.

He smiled and said, "Well sex is just such wonderful motivation." Ron raised an eyebrow, which Hermione smiled at after turning a lovely shade of pink.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"We're in the dungeons under the house."

"Wait, how'd you open the door?" Ron asked.

"It can only be opened from outside," he said jubilantly.

Hermione began to look startled. "But you know how to break the spell, right? Tell me we're not trapped here Draco!" she said a little loudly, desperately gripping his collar to draw him menacingly closer.

"Don't worry. The Ministry is raiding the house. They'll find us sooner or later."

"And what if they don't? What if it's months before they do?" she yelled, gripping his collar even tighter.

He raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't really thought about it. I say we eat Weasley first."

Ron opened two wide eyes and took a step back. "I'm mostly bone. Why don't you try planting a few plants in the mold and see if they grow?" he replied to Draco's sinister look but that did not deter him. "Would you stop imagining me in a bowl of gravy of something!"

Hermione let go of Draco, too stunned to laugh, and sat down on a metal bench attached to the wall. "Did you get the blood?" she asked Draco, looking up expectantly for some good news.

"No, I saw the Death Eaters running and the dust forming and ran back to get you," he said and walked over to the wall against the door and began touching random bricks. "I think Father said one of these bricks opened the door but I can't remember which one… or ones."

"Of all the moments to be oblivious, you picked the day he explained this," Ron said, exasperated, sitting down beside Hermione on the bench. The iron was cold and the rust had calcified into a painful edge under them. "Are you alright?" he asked her, leaning forwards onto her knees as she had done, trying to catch a glimpse of the state of her eyes, of her sad soul.

"It's gone," she said in a distant voice.

"What's gone?" he asked.

She looked up at Draco who pressed bricks at randomly in disgust at the filth. "What we had. It's gone. We don't love each other anymore." Draco stopped pressing the high bricks and looked down at the floor, trying to pretend he hadn't heard her.

"Don't be silly. Veelas can't just stop loving each other. It's impossible," said Ron.

"The Dark Mark uses Veela magic. When they marked him, I went away... I can't even hear him anymore." She wiped a tear away with the back of her hand and sniffed quietly. It didn't even really matter. She was slowly going back to thinking him a selfish, sniveling prat and there was nothing she could do about it.

The desire had already left her again, despite being three yards away from him. Before, they would have forsaken Ron's presence and gone at it like rabid monkeys. But all that was behind her now.

Draco started cursing quietly at the bricks but she ignored it. Ron put a hand on her back. Draco didn't even notice. He was too busy pretending he didn't care about being locked inside a dungeon.

"Draco, stop," she said softly, looking down at the grey dungeon floor. He turned around in frustration, about to say something encouraging like they shouldn't give up, when he saw her sad eyes and stopped himself. Ron looked up at him and gestured that he come sit where he was.

Draco shook his head and made the face of a kid trying to escape having to eat his vegetables but reluctantly went and sat down while Ron kept trying the bricks. "Hermione--" he began but stopped himself, sighed, and reclined back against the grey walls.

After a small quiet, she said, "Are you relieved?"

"I don't know. It's hard to imagine how it was we felt. It's like a memory. You know it happened but you can never relive it. That's pretty much how I feel right now."

"Hmm. Me too. But knowing what we had, you don't miss it?" she asked sweetly, looking up at him with begging eyes.

He didn't know what answer she wanted so he only told her the truth. "I don't know, Hermione. It'll never be how it was. There was no question of how we felt back then. Do I miss it? Of course, but--"

"But the real question is whether or not we want to continue like this never happened."

"Exactly."

"I don't know either… but I think-- I think I want to find out if I could ever love you without the curse," she said hesitantly.

He looked stricken by the response, frozen in wide-eyed terror, and then a smile broke through the fear. A small smile, perhaps, but a smile nonetheless. He put and arm around her and hugged her gently. He looked up at Ron who stared at them with his own reservations.

Ron turned around and started fiddling the bricks again when they heard the locks on the dungeon door unclick from the other side. The heavy door burst open and the dust from the cloud entered and fell to the floor of the entrance. A single head popped in and said with a smile, "Hello all!"

Hermione broke from Draco quickly and turned around. Ron smiled brilliantly but Draco only seemed worried at the sight of Remus Lupin's head at the dungeon door.

Maybe it was the part of him that didn't want to leave that stirred within him. Because for him, at that moment, he didn't have to face Hermione. He couldn't stand having to lie to her, kiss her and try to hide the disgust he'd felt as a child, or hold her without thinking the hatred he'd felt. In that moment, he had meant what he said, and he couldn't imagine any other place he had ever told a girl how he felt without Veela curses or twisted arms.

How he wished he could love her again. How he wished he was worthy.

And then he was back in his room, his dusty room and all the broken remnants of the raid. Voldemort had gone. His father had escaped, and all he had left were sad little particles of dust. His whole world had turned his back on him.

He could feel Voldemort trying to take over him, call him, but ignored it. It was simple really, considering it hadn't taken full effect yet. It was like ignoring the incredible need to go to the bathroom for the rest of his life. He found it funny now. He knew he'd want to die later.

He sat on the edge of his bed and looked down at his intertwined hands atop his lap. He felt so empty, so calm without her constantly on his mind, and still she haunted him. His guilt was drowning him. He didn't love her not because of how he was brought up or the hatred his father had instilled but because he had never loved. Loving something meant caring for something other than oneself and for him that had once been blasphemous.

The door squeaked open and closed but he didn't look up until it slammed shut. He knew it was Hermione by the sound of her hesitant footsteps. She sat down beside him.

"How're Potter and the girl?" he asked.

"Fine, they're the ones that alerted Dumbledore."

"He just believed them?"

"Oh course."

There was a small moment of silence when they both looked at the floor in front of their feet. "You made me happy, Hermione," he finally said quietly.

"You don't have to--"

He stopped her. "I _feel_ like I do! I really do. You don't understand. You were the first to ever make me happy. You showed me what it was to love. I had _never_ loved anything. I didn't know how. Even now, I can't. Maybe it was fate I was bound to you. I don't know. I can't even answer if we'll ever feel the same way again. I can't say I'll make you happy, but Hermione, I don't take anything back. I would kill to feel the same way I did before. I cannot ask you to stand by me now because I don't know how long before the Mark calls to me but if you'll have me, I'd strive to make you happy every day of my life."

When he stopped, he noticed he had grabbed her wrists at some point. It was incredible that he could want to regain something he only had a faint memory of losing. If it had never left him, he would not have the same resolve and he knew it. That didn't make the need to feel the same way again any less crucial.

Right now, she was the only thing stopping the Dark Mark from taking over his last hope and his last chances at love.

"Alright," she said with a disinclined smile. It did reassure him a bit. "I'll stay with you. Prove to me you can be a good man, Draco, and I'll teach you how to love and you'll have my love in return."

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**TO BE CONTINUED…**

Thanks go to the following people for adding me to their story alert list. I always like to mention them one by one. Sorry if the list has gotten a tad long. Please review.

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**Draco and Hermione FanFiction  
Draco and Hermione: A Forbidden Love  
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	12. Rekindling in the Winter Breeze

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART TWELVE

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, the tattoo is revealed. **

_The sex scene previously mentioned would have appeared right after the shower sequence. It was so descriptive that I had to cut it. I will, however, be posting it on Coloured Grey. For those who have visited my account there, you'll see there are only 2 or 3 chapters currently uploaded because the site takes forever to approve each chapter. When the chapter is uploaded or I have found another host site to post, I'll announce it here in my Author Notes._

_And for those who think the story is coming to an end, this is actually the beginning of a whole new sequence of events that are sure to blow the socks off you. Read on!_

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Draco and Hermione walked into their room at Hogwarts hand in hand. They were still getting used to each other's touch again, having to deal with people's stares now that their thoughts weren't clouded by tempting desire.

A few steps in, their hands broke apart and he went into the bathroom while she went straight to bed to lie down on her side, only to find she couldn't sleep no matter how tired. She heard the shower start and smiled, thinking of their last bath together. She thought to join him but shook it off. It would be awkward now.

She'd be sleeping with the old Draco tonight, or rather one worse when she really thought about it. He had yet to say anything mean or uncaring but she knew that could change any moment. She only hoped that the Draco she had come to love would surface long enough to stop himself from breaking her heart.

She heard the glass door to the bathroom open and he entered, soon to be followed by severe cursing when he found the water had been turned to freezing cold from her last visit in. "Sorry!" she yelled from the bed.

"What the bloody hell?" he yelled back. She ignored him and tried to close her eyes, her hands folded atop her stomach in small defeat. She gave in to the exhaustion that worry brought but could not get the feeling of Draco's hand atop her cheek as he slapped her on the dock or the soft kiss they'd shared beside his bed. The two memories tore her in two, one part wishing to feel… _anything_ again, while the other withered her inside with doubt.

The doubts were founded mostly in the realization that she really didn't know him all that well. She knew how he tended to himself every morning and that he hated to take baths alone, that he'd had five other girls before her but never loved one, and that he hated pumpkin juice but loved strawberries and soft music.

Draco came out of the shower in a towel and began rummaging through the closet for his pajamas. "Draco, what's your favorite song?" she asked out of the blue.

"I don't really have a favorite. "I'll Be Seeing You" by Frank Sinatra probably," he responded, muffled slightly from within the closet. He looked around and saw her clothes were still in her suitcases on the floor, but figured he'd best not say anything.

"Why Frank Sinatra? He's a Muggle, right?"

"Well yes but I always dreamed of having the kind of devotion he sang about. It was the kind that inhabited you even after the person's gone. It's kind of ironic that I kept the person but not the devotion." She gave a sarcastic chuckle, which he didn't care for but ignored in an attempt to keep them at peace. "Why do you ask?"

She opened her eyes and saw he walked towards her, drying his hair into a mess with a towel. She smiled and sat up a bit. "No reason," she said as he jumped onto the bed beside her. "You know I kind of like your hair like this."

He ruffled it more with his hand and smiled brilliantly. She hadn't seen him smile like that in quite a bit. "Oh hey! That reminds me!" he said suddenly, jumped off the bed and walked to his sock drawer. "You never opened your gift."

She suddenly lost her smile and looked distinctively paler. "Draco, I--"

"You told me we'd open when I came back, remember? When I was well again."

"Draco, I can't open it. It'd mean I'd have to give you mine and I can't do that right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked, suspicious, but decided not to bother. "I don't care about my present. I want to see you open it."

She took the music box reluctantly and lifted the clasp. She closed her eyes and lifted the lid. When she opened them, a vial of emerald green liquid sat atop a bed of white velvet, its neck closed with a gold foil

"What is it?" she asked, curious at the simplicity of his gift. "A potion?"

"Sort of. If anything happens to me, I want you to drink that."

"Draco, tell me what it does."

"It's to forget. I know memories are all we have left but I don't want you to suffer forever because of me."

She furrowed her brow as she always did when he asked her silly things that would eventually turn into a great necessity. It was still a lovely box. She closed it and turned it around, winding the back. It started playing a very slow, soothing melody that made her sleepy, she imagined as part of its magic.

"Glenn Miller. Moonlight Serenade," he said softly, or it could have been the music that made it seem so.

She looked up at him quickly. "You knew my favorite song?"

"I knew everything, dear," he said with his usual smirk which faded and as she continued, "…once."

"I don't-- I don't know all that much about you, I'm sorry."

"Then ask me."

She thought about it for a moment and said, "Well, what's your favorite book?"

"Well that's a ridiculous question."

"How so?"

"You could ask me anything and you ask me _that_?"

"Well I figured we'd work up to the other stuff. It was all I could think of!"

He laughed slightly and said, "_War and Peace_."

"You're kidding?"

"Well no it's not my _favorite_ book but when my father used to lock me in my room, I needed something long to read and I got kind of hooked."

She looked away, knowing all too well that his father had done many gruesome things she never hoped to know. He noticed her unease and sighed, lying down atop the covers beside her and pulling her down onto the pillow.

She stared at his grey eyes and smiled. It was hard not relive the happy moments whenever she looked at him. It was like watching him sleep, which she had never really done. It was as if for a moment, all the bad things were erased. Their entire previous relationship after that first kiss was like that. It was like revisiting it all over again, without really feeling the moment. It was more torture than anything but it still made her smile.

His touch was still the same, even as he brushed the hair back from her face. Lying beside him was still the same. But now, it didn't overwhelm her with uncontrollable desire. It didn't make her want to dream of undressing him anymore but it certainly sent _something_ through her.

There was a breeze coming through the window and she imagined she was back in her dream by the beach. "Hmm, do you remember the dream I was telling you about a little while back?"

"The one by the beach?" he said, running a gentle hand up and down her arm slowly.

"Yeah, don't you wish you were there right now?"

"I wish I was having lunch on the southern balcony of the manor. It's lovely. Has the same calm breeze without the sand. I'd love to be able to show you sometime."

"Hmm. Malfoy Manor? You think I'd be allowed someday?"

"If it were up to me, you'd never leave."

"You know, I'd still like you to meet my parents."

"I dunno. Are you sure your mother won't assault me with a blunt object the moment I step through?"

She laughed, remembering seeing Draco in prison. "Not if you come through the front door like a normal person."

"Well, what'd be the fun in that?" She rested her cheek on the back of her hand and sighed, closing her eyes. "Don't go to sleep on me. The first night is the hardest," he said.

She opened her eyes quickly. "First night?"

"After being marked," he said slightly more seriously, letting his stroking hand rest atop her shoulder and drawing closer. She let him pull her in, only to make him feel slightly less alone, but she knew the night was just beginning and she'd have to see him through if she had any hope of rekindling what they had.

"I'm here," she whispered, her eyes closed from exhaustion. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Soon, they were nose to nose and Draco could not help kissing her lightly as she slept, just to see what it was like to kiss her and not his mate.

Their lips met but their drive was dead. She didn't move. She was used to having her body move for her, feeling the great pleasure of enjoying physical contact without feeling the emotional repercussions of the morning after. She didn't have that anymore. And now, she found her lips on his, both warm and wanting but inactive.

"Hermione?" he asked, his lips still lightly attached. "Are you awake?"

"No."

"I see," he said, knowing she really she didn't want to kiss him back.

Just then, her lips tilted on her pillow and their kiss became deeper, his smile wider at her return. His hand moved from her shoulder to her waist and slowly up her bare back beneath her blouse.

"Draco?" she said and he knew she meant for him to stop his errant hand. It stopped but didn't move. He liked the warmth beneath her clothes and the feel of his hand caught between her skin and the soft cotton. He loved how his hand fit so easily into the groove of her waist, so he stayed there for the night.

They slept that way for a little while, until the tremors started. His trembling hand woke her as he moved away from her and onto his back, staring with blank eyes at the canopy. She could have panicked, like her heart wanted her to, but her mind told her it was the last thing he needed.

She put a calm hand on his chest and it seemed to stop every seizure except in his hand. It still trembled beside him on the bed. He screamed a few times but she just whispered in his ear.

"I'm right here, love," she'd say. "Just hold on a little bit more and it'll all be ok. I'm right here."

She kept her eyes closed the entire night but she didn't sleep a single second after the first tremor. She knew it could only get worse as evil overtook his heart and the last remnant of their romance was wiped away

-----

At midday light, Hermione heard something like someone clearing their throat at the foot of the bed and opened her eyes. Snape's dark, menacing eyes stared her down into shame. She raised her head and saw Dumbledore standing next to him with a bushy eyebrow raised. Behind them, Harry and Ron waited with crossed arms.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked to all and any of them really.

At the sound of her voice, Draco sat up in a startled rush, yelling out to the supposedly empty room, "No more whipped cream!"

Ron and Harry could not help laugh and even Dumbledore raised a hand to hide a small giggle. Snape refused to be amused.

Draco looked around suddenly. Hermione's hand was still on his chest only now his gripped hers as tightly as it had all night. He was in his pajama pants but no shirt and Hermione's had been pulled up on the back where his hand had slid. His hair was a mess and they had slept above the covers.

"Uh… I can explain," he began but Dumbledore raised his hand and he stopped to listen.

"No need Mr. Malfoy. But I would like you to explain why you didn't go to the infirmary the moment you stepped into Hogwarts. As I understand it, you've suffered various injuries," he said.

"No. No injuries," he said seriously, sitting up in bed and showing his arm. "Just this." The Mark had turned his arm into a bruise in the shape of a long-fingered hand.

Ron and Harry made a face of disgust but Hermione only sighed. "Does it hurt?" Harry asked.

"Gee Potter, I didn't really think you were stupid but you'll go through great lengths to prove me wrong," he responded. "Actually, not as much as it looks."

Hermione sat up beside him, parting hands. "He had tremors last night, pretty bad ones," she told Snape. "How bad is it going to get?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. He would never agree to their relationship, no matter the circumstances. "It is no longer your responsibility, Ms. Granger. You are no longer obliged to stay," he said through gritted teeth.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at Draco, who had been holding onto his chest and looking down. He quickly looked up to Snape through his eyelashes, an expression of sheer boredom just as he'd always had in Potion class all these years, and responded, "She's here to stay, Professor. Let's not say something you might regret in the long run." Hermione smirked and went to get out of bed. Draco caught her hand. "If there's nothing else, we'll meet you all in the infirmary for a full debriefing. Potter, Weasley? I appreciate the attention -- really, it's quite flattering -- but she's fine, as you can see. Go back to class."

Ron and Harry looked at each other in worry, then back at Hermione for an answer. She gave a small nod and a smile and they turned around and left through the door. Dumbledore gave one of his small smiles as well and a similar nod and followed. "Come, Severus," he said as he left.

Snape sneered in her direction and turned around. She didn't like his look. It felt horrible like it was her fault.

After he left too, she looked to the bedside table where the music box lay open, the green vial calling to her. She placed it on her lap as soon as Draco reached the bathroom. The shower started and she began to play with the gold foil on the neck, caught on whether or not to drink it. It was a moment of doubt but she shut it quickly and put it back on the bed, running to catch up to him in the bathroom.

"What's this then?" he asked with a head full of shampoo as she walked into the shower, fully clothed, behind him, **running a hand across the basilisk that adorned his right shoulder blade** with great fervor.

She turned him around, smiled deviously, and kissed him, pushing him against the tiled wall. "I'm just making memories, dear. I'm just making memories."

-----

The infirmary was cold that night. Draco found being in bed a ridiculous necessity. He was not mortally wounded. He would not lapse into a coma all of a sudden. And he had no sudden urge to hump anything. Well… that last one wasn't _completely_ true. Parts of him were still dwelling on their shower.

He looked up at the white, tall ceiling and began to wonder the first silly thing that came into mind, just to see what he could come up with. He knew he wouldn't be able to suppress the Mark like that forever. At one point, he would be linked to Voldemort for the rest of his life and that was it.

He felt like if he let that happen, then he and Hermione were through. He knew she could never love an evil man. That's why she had been attracted to Ron. He had such a ridiculous childlike innocence that it had turned him into an imbecile. He knew he could never be like that but worse, he knew keeping her with him against her will would just kill her heart slowly and that, he couldn't let happen.

He remembered loving her, after all. Maybe he didn't feel it. But he remembered it.

He looked over to Hermione talking with Pomfrey in the distance. He did not care for her reaction at all. She was biting the nail on her thumb as she did when worried about him. Her foot kept tapping on the floor and her posture was ridiculously upright. Something was not only wrong. It was deathly news.

Hermione looked over at him lazily on the bed and shook her head in tearful disbelief. Madame Pomfrey saw where she was looking, sighed, and went over to fully close the curtains around Draco's bed. He shot her an irritated look just as the curtains closed in a sudden rush.

"How long before it happens?" he heard Hermione say tearfully.

"It should have already happened. Maybe it did. We have no way of knowing," Pomfrey answered.

"_I_ know," she snapped. "It's still him. Veelas don't give in so easily. Believe you me, they have the stamina of freakin' horses. There's still time. Professor Snape can make a potion, maybe?"

"Don't be silly, girl. Nobody escapes the call of the Dark Mark."

Draco opened his eyes wide and faced the roof again. A few minutes later, he heard a sniff coming closer to the curtains just before Hermione entered, closing the curtains back again behind her.

"Tell me," she demanded sternly, her eyes red and puffy. "Were you happy before you met me?"

"What?" he said, sitting up quickly.

"I know you'd never loved anyone, that you hated to see your parents how they were, but were you content with life as you knew it before me?"

"Hermione, I--"

"Tell me!" she yelled, masking grief with anger.

He looked at her for a moment, looking for the right words to say, but it just ended up as a simple, "Yes. I was content. But I would never-- _never_ take back the time we've had." She paced back and forth between him and the curtain. "Hermione, what are you thinking? Please tell me this isn't about the Mark and the potion. Making me forget is not going to erase how _you_ feel."

"Draco, I want to end this. I want you to forget me. I don't want you to suffer because of me. If you give in to the Mark, you'll be happy and you'll be safe. You'd go back to the way things were and you'd never have to worry about turning your back on your family…"

"Hermione, don't you dare--"

But it was too late. She had taken the emerald vial out of her cloak and placed it on the bedside table. "Well, are you going to do it… or am I?"

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**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**Up next:**_ the decision of who will give up their memories for the greater good. Classes continue and now, Hermione finds herself on an entirely new side of The Quarter Moon Gamble. Is death around the corner? Or is a wedding soon to come?_

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	13. Peace in Familiar Arms

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART THIRTEEN

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_This chapter deals with the same philosophy of previous chapters and basically the whole story: "It's not always about love. It's about need. It's about want." Whether Draco and Hermione will eventually end up together is still undecided. After this chapter, you'll see why. The real question is: were they ever? Was Ron always a lingering possibility, his loyalty a profound indication that one cannot settle for a lapsing romance?_

_This chapter was re-written over three times. I had thought to erase it completely, mainly because I was hit with the unfortunate desire to change the events for the better. I can take no pleasure in making these characters, with whom I so identify, suffer but it does happen in life sooner or later, and this is how the story goes…_

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She knew time had passed. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. They stared for a moment and then Draco got a sudden urge to rage on about the absurdity of her logic when she stood up as well and suddenly, it was a ridiculous staring contest between two childish imbeciles, or so he thought. She, however, did not waver. She stood her ground but could not help her eyes watering over.

"Fine. Then I'm sorry for doing this," she whispered and took her wand out from behind her back and yelled, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Instantly, he became stiff as a board, his eyes calm but unforgiving. She pushed him lightly with a single finger and he fell backwards, his feet folded under him as if sitting in midair. She pulled out the green liquid and frowned.

"This is it," she told herself. "I'm done with all of it."

And just like that, she took the emerald potion and poured half into his mouth. She bottled the rest and pocketed it carefully. She sat him back up, still petrified, and knelt down in front of him.

"Listen to me, ok? You won't remember anything that's happened in the last two months involving the Veela curse or me or anything we may have done. Please, I pray you find peace among your kind, among your family. If you can no longer find happiness with me, find it with the people you were born to. Forget me, darling. And I'll try never to lose us. When this is over, when Harry kills Voldemort, I'll find you again. I promise. I'll find you an antidote to that wretched Mark."

With that said she withdrew his paralysis into her wand and let him to slumber as the antidote to their love burnt its way through his blood. For a moment, everything flashed before him: the night of the dance and their first drunken kiss, the walks by the lake and nights at the Spyder Club, her touch -- my God, how he tried to hold onto her touch -- and feeling her heartbeat against him as they flew…

But then, when he opened his eyes, it was all as distant as a dream. And when he looked around, he was alone and couldn't help feel like something was missing.

-----

Hermione walked down the corridor with her head held low. She hugged her book tightly with one hand and held her bag by her thigh with the other. She didn't feel safe anymore. And worse, now she had to hide.

She walked into the infirmary. Why, she wasn't sure. She had no reason to go back there anymore, but her heart told her otherwise.

Draco was asleep in a bed at the end of the right row by the window. His curtains were pulled open and she could see his chest rise and fall heavily even from the other end of the room. The door behind her slammed shut and it felt like the one around her heart had too. She couldn't turn back now, and began towards him slowly.

She stopped at the foot of his bed and her grip around her book tightened. She shook off the determination that had brought her there and went to walk back to the door when he suddenly said, "What do you want, Granger?"

She stopped and looked at him suppressing tears. His eyes were still closed but his face looked firm and angry, not the face of a dormant mind.

"I-- I wanted to see how you were," she said with a slight stutter.

"What's it to _you_, Mudblood?" he said with his usual sneer.

She winced at the word. It hurt so much to hear him say that after all they'd gone through. But she had slight advantage over him and stood her ground. When he noticed she was still there, he opened his eyes. She was examining him with a raised eyebrow.

"I hear you can't remember anything that's happened the last few months," she said softly.

"Listen, whatever I did to you in that time, you probably deserved it so you will not be getting an apology from me."

"I don't need one," she said quickly with newfound confidence, running her finger across the edge of the footboard and sitting down on the bed beside him.

"And I'm not apologizing for anything I did to Potter and Weasel either."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of asking that."

"Then what?" he said with a raised eyebrow, sitting up cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to do _this_," she said and in a sudden second, flew through the air between her and his bed and before he could look stunned, her lips were upon his.

He didn't understand it, didn't want it at first. But then, without even noticing, he felt something taking him over and he was kissing her back, moving his hand up her arm to her face, and just as quickly he pushed away.

She gasped for breath as he opened his eyes wide and went to cover his mouth. He had torn her bottom lip, but she knew. It was still him. He still tasted the same, and even as that mark tore him inside, he had peace until she could begin again. She wondered if he would ever really know what they'd had, what he'd done for her.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he yelled furious, even a little disgusted.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. She loved to toy with him for some reason. "I suppose that's something you'll have to figure out," she said, picked up her books gracefully and strolled out the infirmary, his wide eyes following her until the tip of her cloak swayed away down the hall. And he was alone with his thoughts.

Hermione didn't know what had made her do that. She had wanted the potion to take him away but she was starting to wonder if she had done it for herself as she sat on his bed, eating chocolates as if inhaling oxygen.

_Maybe he'll feel it again and come after me,_ she thought… she prayed. _Maybe this is just another trial of our love. _

But then she thought of the moments she had taken from him and wondered if she had done it because she was too cowardly to do so herself… because inside, she secretly wanted to escape him and all the pain but feared losing the good. And now, to please her, he had taken a part of himself.

What's worse, she enticed him. She kissed him after deciding to break away from their relationship. She wondered what his last thought was before taking the potion. Had he thought she didn't love him anymore? Had he done it to spare her or spare himself? She had _never_ felt so guilty in her life.

The chocolate had melted in her hand but she hadn't noticed, not even as she wiped away her tears and left behind a thick smear over her left cheek. She heard a light knock at the door and instantly, she looked up, praying it was him standing there with a giant need to forgive.

"Don't do this to yourself," she whispered as she got off the bed to open the door reluctantly.

When she looked up, Ron was standing before her, hands in pockets and vision lowered. "Can I come in?" he asked softly, ignoring her chocolate smears as he entered.

She was surprised to see him, especially without Harry. Whenever uncomfortable a topic, he would talk to Harry and this was the most uncomfortable she had ever been around him.

"I paid a visit to the infirmary. He had no idea what I was doing there, who I was. He asked if I was going to kiss him too… so I figured I might see you about it," he said as he sat down on the couch.

She smiled lightly and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. "It's over," she said as if nothing. "I made him forget. It's as if nothing happened. And I think I'm ok with it."

"Liar."

"Alright, I _will_ be ok with it… I have to be."

"Damn, Hermione. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" At this, she burst out in tears, covering her face with her chocolate-ridden hands. He quickly ran to hug her and in one fell swoop he was beside her out of nowhere.

His touch felt marvelous. She longed for Draco's. He and Ron did not have the same hands. Draco's were reassuring, strong but thin and long-fingered. Ron was softer, good for caressing. She began to wonder if Ron was as good a lover and quickly pushed away.

"You should really leave," she said, looking away as he wiped the smear from her cheek.

"I know," he whispered and cleared his throat. "I know. But I can't. I need to know you're ok."

"Ron…"

"You know I tried to forget everything with us after I saw you and Malfoy by the lake. When you told us about the Veela curse, I thought since you two were meant to be together, anything I'd felt just withered away. I don't know why I went to see him. Maybe I thought you'd be there. Maybe I needed you to tell me again how much you loved him. You've always had your own life but at the end of the day, you always ended up back at common room telling us. Now we don't even _see_ you--"

"Ron, stop!" she yelled. "You needed to know if I was ok, but you're not making things better."

He looked away and paused for a moment, biting his lip. She shouldn't have stopped him, she thought, seeing as Ron never told what was on his mind or in his heart. It must have hurt him to say those things to her, as all forceful effort did. She went to apologize when she noticed he was looking at her sweetly, like he had never done.

Draco had looked at her similarly once, but not with the same sweetness. Every look Draco ever gave was rooted in some selfish need, even as he admired her, as if the darkness in his eyes were blinding him from truly seeing her. "Ron, why are you looking at me like that?"

His mouth curled into a smile and his hands went to cradle her face as he drew closer. Initially, she moved back as he drew in but she sighed and jumped at the chance of a kiss, of any interaction. Draco was no longer hers, after all. But she couldn't do it. Even as she felt her lips against Ron's, she only felt uneasy as if his lips were strange. She had grown so used to Draco's. She could read that boy's body like _Teen Weekly_, easily and with great disbelief… like she couldn't imagine being there and still feeling his touch…

Ron pulled away when he felt she had gone off, her eyes shut but her mind wandering. She was thinking of Draco, he knew. He shook his head as if giving up and went to stand when her hand grasped his wrist and pulled him back to sit beside her.

"Hermione, I can't do this. I thought there was a chance now. There isn't."

"I don't love you, Ron. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't say that but I think I got into this whole thing with Draco because I once did love you, care about you enough to try and hurt you for being a _guy_. I never would have gone over to the circle if you weren't being an idiot that night at the dance. He would never have taken me back to the common room. I never would have kissed him."

"I always blamed the butterbeer actually," he said softly.

"But I was selfish and made him forget, and trying to please me, he did it. The curse is gone, Ron. It dissolved when the Dark Mark hit him. And now, I still can't stop myself from thinking of him. I was too cowardly to take it myself! I've killed us!" she said in a sudden sob. "And if I can't kiss you right now, it's not because I can't stop thinking about him or because I never loved you. It's because I'm disgusted with myself."

She got up and went to move but now he stopped _her_. He stood up and hugged her. A simple hug, but it made her feel like she wasn't alone anymore. "My God, I've missed you," she said, muffled by tears.

"Is that directed at me… or him?"

"Touch, I think. See someone very close to me once told me it wasn't about love. It's about need. It's about want. And I really need you to kiss me again… right now."

-----

Draco couldn't understand Hermione's kiss, or why he couldn't forget it two days later. Nobody had visited him in the infirmary, and he began crossing people off his Christmas list. Then he realized he didn't know what day it was and asked Madame Pomfrey next time she visited.

"January 11th," she answered in a flat tone, dismissive even.

"January?" he echoed loudly. "You mean I've missed Christmas?"

"Missed it? Why, you left the school with everybody else. If you missed it, it was probably because of that Granger girl you're always with."

He arched his eyebrows so high that his eyes looked monstrously huge. "Granger girl?"

"Well yes. Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy? You're looking paler than usual."

He narrowed his eyes. "How long have I been here?"

"Just a few days. Professor Dumbledore wanted to keep you here, to make sure we can handle the tremors from the Mark. I'd say you've had it easy though."

"I think we have a problem," he said, his face stricken and stiff. "I can't remember the last two months."

-----

A knock came at Draco's room door that night. Hermione woke up in a sudden jerk, the events of the previous hour reliving in her head as soon as she saw Ron in bed beside her. He wasn't sleeping and quickly sat up beside her. They looked at each other, startled to hear Dumbledore's voice. She gestured to the bathroom and he ran. She had to cover her eyes not to see anything. It still felt strange to see naked people walking around but the room had seen more than enough naked butts.

"Coming, Professor!" she yelled, knowing it would be impossible to hide her affair but convinced that it was none of his business. And then she opened the door in her robe and she felt her mind want to escape into a little dark corner where it could cower all by itself.

The headmaster stood proud and tall. And behind him, Draco stood short and aggravated. "What did you do to me?" he yelled but Dumbledore put out a hand that barred him from entering. Hermione wondered if Dumbledore knew Ron was in the bathroom, but no man was ever all-knowing. She began to close the door slowly behind her, tightening her grip on her robe. Maybe if Draco was mad enough, he wouldn't notice.

"What did you take from me, Granger?" he asked.

"Mr. Malfoy, calm down," Dumbledore said, getting tired of his tone. "Ms. Granger, why are several months of his memory missing?"

"He did it to himself," she said sternly, trying to make him hate her so her betrayal wouldn't hurt as much.

"I doubt that!" he yelled back.

She calmed down and took a step closer to him so she was face to face with him. "How would you know that, love?"

"Love?" he echoed as if it brought back memories, his face suddenly startled.

Dumbledore immediately interrupted. "That may have been but what was he trying to forget? Would you know?"

"Of course she knows! The other Slytherins won't even speak to me because of something she did to me!"

"Something _I_ did to _you_?" she scowled. "You know what? I wouldn't help you even if you said please."

"Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said in his calm, decisive voice. "I suggest you at least tell _me_ the circumstances behind an illegal potion."

She sighed, nodded, and announced she'd meet them in the headmaster's office soon as she was dressed. She entered the room and shut the door quickly behind her, resting back against the door and heaving for breath. Her stomach gurgled with pain and her chest heaved. Still, she hoped they didn't hear her and put a hand over her mouth before she began to sob.

She tried to move but something felt horrible. Ron ran to catch her as she slid down to the floor but she was already feeling the evils of her abandonment.

She crawled to the bed and reached for her robes, for the rest of the potion in her pocket. Ron ran to stop her just as the small vial reached her lips.

"I want to forget! Let me forget!" she yelled in hysterical sobs. He pulled the vial from her tight grasp but she pulled at him to give it back. "Did you see? Did you see what I did to him?"

Ron closed the bottle and threw it on the bed, then turned to hug her fiercely, tightly in the fear she'd hurt herself. "Hermione, stop! You did it to save him, so he'd be happy! You can't do this to yourself! Let him go on content as he is until you find the freakin' cure!"

She whimpered but stopped resisting and just let him comfort her while she cried into his shoulder.

"Come on," he said a few minutes later, after she had calmed enough. "We gotta get you dressed. Dumbledore's waiting."

"I don't think-- I won't be able to-- I can't."

He helped her up off the floor by the foot of the bed. "The Hermione I knew wouldn't let a guy do this to her."

She straightened up and looked him square in the eyes and said, "The Hermione you knew is dead, Ron. Learn to live with the one you have, because the love the other one felt for you died on that common room floor. This is all I can give you: a half a heart. You deserve better."

She walked past him into the bathroom, as composed as she could muster, and started the shower. He had stood where she'd left him long after she'd entered. She didn't hear him come in but when she turned around, Ron stood at the bathroom door, leaning onto his hand. His face scared her a little. It held a type of determination she'd only seen in Ron their first year during a very harsh game of chess and never after. She shut off the shower and pushed her wet mane back so she could see him through the glass doors.

"I'll take any part of you I can get," he said clearly and sternly, looking at her like her words had offended him. "I won't leave you now that I have you. And I won't let you leave _me_ when you know I'm the only one that's there for you now. It's not about want. It's about need. You need me and I need you. Stop pretending like the world ended the day he forgot about you."

She looked down and realized she was naked. He had a towel around his waist but that didn't matter. Physical seclusion was the least of her worries right now. She didn't even care that she must look puffy and red and sopping wet. She had gotten thinner from the stress. That's when she started to think, What if I never get Draco back? What if this potion was the end of a disease? Was loving him killing me?

She looked back up at Ron, the same look still plastered across his face, and realized he wasn't going anywhere. Just as Draco had taught her, it wasn't about love. It was about having someone there in the morning to keep the world together one more day. And she sent all hope of a cure for the wretched Mark away and stepped out of the shower to hug him lightly.

She didn't cry. She didn't feel a part of her had reborn. But it was calming, for once, to have his heat next to hers. It was as if time had stood still just for her to think her way towards peace.

_Goodbye, Draco,_ she thought. _May peace find you too in familiar arms._

-----

Dumbledore's office was as inviting as ever. Rather, it was neutral, which was comforting enough. She had dressed quickly and run down. She caught the gargoyles from closing just as Draco was leaving and ran up before she could look him in the eye. She couldn't have another breakdown just before meeting Dumbledore.

And now she sat in the chair in front of his desk and waited for him to ask the question she dreaded. "Why, Ms. Granger?" he asked and she snapped to attention. Fawkes squawked in the background but she paid no mind. It was like annoying elevator music in sudden screeches.

"I cannot answer that, sir," she said in a small voice. "I did it because I had to. I did it against his will, yes, but it was for the best."

"Explain."

"The Dark Mark took away our connection, perverted it for evil means. He tried to keep me by his side in hope that we could learn to love again but we are dead, sir. Anything he and I had is gone, and he will only be happier giving in to the life he had before me. So I erased us."

The headmaster sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you truly believe it was for the best, for his inner health?"

"I do," she replied sternly, convincing even her doubting self.

Dumbledore nodded and said softly, "Then I cannot do anything in the matter."

"Here," she said as she put the rest of the potion on his desk. "The rest of the potion. I leave it to your care."

At this, he leaned back forward. "You did not give it all?"

She looked confused. "No. I think I might have hoped to take the rest myself."

"Then you have done him a great injustice, Ms. Granger. Without the rest of the potion, his memories remain dreams. Some have even found their memories to return. You have only delayed the inevitable."

She inhaled sharply and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Well yes, I've seen this potion used before. It is common among the Dark Lord's entourage, so they will not reveal vital information to the enemy."

"How long do I have to find a cure to the Mark?"

"A cure? Explain this." He was once again interested.

"The Mark uses Veela magic. I thought you knew." He shook his head. "It's why my connection to Draco was broken. It nearly killed him at first. Same with his father. I found this potion in one of the Malfoy Veela books when I was up there. I combined it with a few others I knew form prior knowledge and I think I may have found a cure but it requires Voldemort's blood to work."

Dumbledore seemed pensive for a moment then said with newfound childish enthusiasm, "By Saint Peter's church and Peter too! Do you think it'll work?"

"I'd bet my life on it," she said seriously, bringing Dumbledore back to Earth with her deathly tone. "If you wish to find the cure, I'd gladly give you the solution. But know that I want no say in it. I refuse to risk anyone's life and I surely won't go against Him for anyone. I have no allegiances any longer, nor do I owe him, nor he I."

"My dear, we needn't face Voldemort. We have his blood in ample supply right here at the castle."

"What?" she asked, startled, hope lighting its path back to her heart.

"Why, in Harry of course. The spell used to bring Him back used Harry's blood, which means they now share a blood bond as well as a spiritual one. If you need a connection, Harry's your answer."

-----

Classes went on much as usual. Nobody really dared bring up Hermione to Draco. But she had to deal with being constantly bombarded by rumormongers. Pansy, one of the few who actually knew of the Veela curse, had approached her about it but she turned and walked to the safety of Ron's arms.

It was getting ridiculous. The whispers were driving her mad. Nobody knew that he had forgotten, mainly because his own ego stopped him from revealing he had been exposed to anything. Perhaps only Crabbe and Goyle and they were hardly the prime mental specimens to figure it out.

Draco began thinking his own father had done it. Granger hadn't admitted to it after all and he only knew the Death Eaters to erase a fellow member's memories when they'd been captured by the enemy. So, he began to think it had been Hermione who had captured him. This was slightly true. He began thinking at nights what could have happened that his family would forsake him. They hadn't written to him in quite some time and until he could figure out what happened in those few months, he was an island onto himself.

Hermione had given Dumbledore her sure-fire break to the Dark Mark and Snape was looking it over. They hadn't found anything wrong but Snape did look rather anxious to see it in action. He wanted to be the guinea pig. Two weeks later, he still hadn't said a single compliment to her regarding her skills or her find, not even to tell her how lucky she got.

She had separated herself from that world. She was back in the girls' dormitory at Gryffindor Tower, and was quite content with her leaky roof. She figured it would stop once winter was over but the snow had mostly gone from the roofs and all that fell were small remnants of her past.

She ran down one February morning to find Ron waiting for her in the common room, pacing rapidly before the fire. Harry sat in his usual sofa with Ginny rested on the floor against his legs, reading some witch magazine Hermione had never heard of.

"There you are," Ron said with a smile and a kiss. It was a Saturday, she realized. She had gone back to her classes as usual but it was still hard to wake without thinking each day was another work day, another weekday, another day to avoid thinking of winter.

"What's going on?" she asked, trying to mimic happiness in her tone. She knew he wouldn't buy it but at least she was making an effort.

"They called Harry to the office. We think Snape finally made the charm, perfected the potion… whatever! I think you've done it. You've saved him."

With that, no matter how joyous Ron's tone, her smile faded into a thing of the past. It had been a good few weeks. Had it even been a month, she thought. But that was all gone. And Ron was happy?

"How can you act like this?" she asked sincerely, no sarcasm to be heard, her face still stunned or rather, horrified.

"I know how much it meant for you to free him," he said, grasping her arms with enthusiasm.

"Thank you for telling me, but whatever happens, all that's in the past," she said with a fake smile. Ron wondered if she was trying to comfort him, knowing he was none too pleased with having Draco back in her life.

"Don't do this for me, Hermione," he warned. "Go see him."

"Even if the Mark is gone, he still has no memories. There'd be no point."

"At least you'd find out--" he began but stopped himself.

She furrowed her brow. "You mean at least I'd find out whether or not he's really one of the bad guys? Whether I could have made it work if he were free of the Death Eaters?"

Ginny and Harry had been staring. Ron was not too comfortable with it, and had certainly lost his enthusiasm. He secretly wished for her answer, to deny Draco and her past indiscretions. They all knew it.

"Hey," he whispered. "I trust you'll come back to me. There's nothing worth going back to in Malfoy, right?"

Harry, who listened intently, asked timidly, "Do you think once they get rid of the Mark, the Veela instinct will return?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hermione lied. She hoped it would. It would take the choice away, so she no longer had to fake a relationship with Ron. She didn't love him yet, he knew. Secretly, he hoped time would heal that. But their time was up. "Will you come with me?"

Ron was taken aback by her question. "Of course," he'd replied reluctantly but secretly, he wanted to tie her to him and never let go of their time together.

"Shall we then?" Harry asked, standing up. Ginny, who had been reading her magazine as if nothing, smiled up at Harry. He bent down to kiss her goodbye and the three were off for Dumbledore's office.

Halfway there, Harry decided to break the awkward silence by asking, "Does anyone else feel like singing 'We're Off to See the Wizard'?"

"I don't get it," Ron said. Hermione smiled to herself, holding Ron's hand and tightening her grip as they neared the gargoyles.

"It's from _The Wizard of Oz_, Ron," Harry continued, but Ron only shrugged.

"Never met him. Is Oz anywhere near England?"

"Last I heard, you had to go through Kansas," Hermione said, stifling a laugh.

"Is there a Portkey in Kansas?"

"None to Oz, but it sure would have made sense, eh? I found the whole plot the ravings of a madman." Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head. "I like that. Your smile," Harry said. "I hadn't seen it in a while." At that, Hermione smiled more and blushed. She retreated to her thoughts as she looked at her feet and the floor before them.

And then, she could retreat no more. They were at the door.

"_Rumpelstiltskin_," Harry said and the gargoyles parted. He stepped through but Ron and Hermione lingered behind.

"You sure?" Hermione asked.

"Do you think you'd ever get past this without at least seeing him?" he replied. She shook her head no and sighed then followed him up the stairs, hand in hand.

-----

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed next to Draco's in the hospital wing. She had thought she could forget him without the potion, put him out of her heart, but the moment she saw him in pain and tumbling to the floor, her hand left Ron's and she flew to his side.

_I can't let it alone,_ she thought. _He's a part of me. _

Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide and turned to her, watching her stare at her hands on her lap. She had so much guilt for such a little person. For a second he felt pity, even appreciation for her worry, but he snapped out of it.

"Who's a part of you?" he asked.

Her head shot up quickly. "What did you say?"

"You said 'He's a part of me'. Who are you talking about?" His tone was impatient, classic Draco. His memories had not returned.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did. I heard you."

She sighed and skipped the subject, praying he'd let her forget it. "How are you feeling?"

He narrowed his eyes at her but continued sternly, "Why was it so important to me that the Mark came off?"

"I can't answer that."

"Can't answer it because I never told you or because it involves _you_ somehow?"

"Don't be an arse, Draco. Be glad you're free of it."

"And that was your doing I hear?" She nodded and looked back down, trying to keep her thoughts from him. But then, out of the blue, he surprised her. "Thank you," he said after reading her tired, heartbroken face. He tried to be as sincere as possible but it was hard. He didn't know why he wanted to make her feel better. He just did.

It caught her by surprise and she looked up again, refusing to smile. This was not her Draco, she reminded herself, praying he didn't hear.

_I wonder if she has the dreams too, _he thought.

She raised an eyebrow, but she was too curious not to ask. "What dreams?"

"What?"

"You can read my mind, Draco. I can read yours. It started out as a feeling but as it got stronger… it must have finally turned into words," she said and lied back on the bed so to rest her tired eyes. She hadn't slept since the day Snape did the spell. A potion, a spell, a drop of blood, and a charm later, they were free. She could have sworn she saw Snape cry but didn't say anything, simply smiled to herself. Draco's return had not been so easy.

"How?" he demanded, slightly appalled.

She sighed at his arrogant nature. She pondered where or not to tell him but he demanded in his thoughts too. She couldn't deny him there. "I'm sure you know you're part Veela…"

"Oh dear Lord," he broke her off, his eyes widening as if he'd seen the Bloody Baron in polka dot pajamas floating by. "You mean you're… my… MATE?" She didn't like that he yelled the last word. Madame Pomfrey shushed them from a distance.

"Pathetic, isn't it? Even a little ironic, actually."

"But I didn't feel any…"

"Give it a minute. I suppose there's no way to hide it now."

"Why can't I remember?" he asked a little softer in tone, and turned on his side so he faced her bed.

She did the same and smiled. "I did it to you. I thought you'd be happier an arrogant Slytherin than being trapped with me."

"You're right. I would be."

"The arrogant Slytherin in you says that now, but the Draco I knew would have been furious at me. I took away us. You wouldn't have forgiven me for that. I don't expect the Draco you've become to understand."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I do. Did I ever tell you of my mother and father? Their circumstance?"

"Yes. I know. But we weren't the same. You made sure we were different. That I was happy. I suppose I should thank you for that."

"Don't be ridiculous." She didn't know if he was being chivalrous or an asshole again. "What happens now?" he asked. She felt like a mother trying to explain to her child death. It was in no way comforting, the fact that she had to tell him or that he'd had to know.

"We move on. We find a way to erase the Veela instinct and we go back to how things were."

He furrowed his brow. He could tell she was lying. It wasn't what she wanted at all. "We cared for each other, then?"

"A great deal I'm afraid… I'm afraid it was love."

A great calm fell over him and he extended a hand. She looked at it questioningly but took it nonetheless. "We could have it back, you know. I never loved. You could teach me."

"You don't want me, Draco. Not really, not the real you. I've moved on, Draco. Do what you want. I won't tie you to me."

He looked her over, beginning to feel the Veela taking over. He wanted to kiss her so much but couldn't. There was a space now between them, between their beds. "If we were happy, we should be together, no?" She shook her head no as tears overflowed her eyes. He tightened his grip on her hand.

"I'm with someone else now. I've made myself a promise, Draco. You were gone from my life and you still are. Move on and I will too," she said and pulled her hand from his and began to get up. He watched her leave the wing and felt a part of him leaving too.

This was it. He'd lost her. But if what she said was true, and he _felt_ it was true, he had to win her back. After all, Malfoys never lose.

-----

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

_Special thanks go to "iluv2dance" for being my 100th reviewer. Thank you, truly. _

_And please don't forget the events of the first chapter. They come into relevance quite soon and especially near the ending. The Gamble returns!_

**-----**

**REVIEW!**


	14. Farrow

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART FOURTEEN

-----

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **_This little section with the memory loss was yet another alteration of the original plot in my head. The first version involved the music box to more detail. It wasn't even a music box, just a simple box. And in it, there was going to be their connection, concentrated into a potion, so she could take it when he was away and she could feel the sensation of his touch. _

_Forgive the delay on sending out this chapter. I got preoccupied with school._

_Oh! And I dedicate this chapter to the song "Idioteque" by Radiohead. I highly recommend it. It got me through three nights of insomnia._

**IMPORTANT!**_ I've decided that I might be taking on the project of starting a short prequel to "The Quarter Moon Gamble" called **"The Dragon's Farrow"** that takes place when Draco was 10 years old. Read on to find out the plot.  
_

-----

The Potions classroom was hot this Valentine's Day from Hell. Neville had tried to do a simple heating spell and expanded it to the entire classroom. Snape didn't allow him to take it off as a punishment. He had his own little cooling potion so why would _he_ care if the others melted? Still, he was in a remarkably lively mood. One student even heard him whistling in the halls and a whole class saw him give McGonagall a rose. All of a sudden, rumors of an illicit affair were spreading and some even brought in Dumbledore as a third angle in the triangle.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron ignored it, though. They had their own problems. Harry was having trouble finding time for Ginny. They weren't even officially going out yet, not for lack of trying. Hermione felt horrible that she had missed their first courtships. She had at least been there for all the drama with Cho last year, no matter how much she disapproved.

But she had her own issues. Ron was trying so hard not to be jealous but Draco was becoming incessant. He refused to give up, no matter how many times she turned him down. He had caught her in an empty hallway the day before and went to give her a letter when Ron came out of a classroom nearby where he was to meet her and told him to sod off. Draco refused to leave until she got the letter, and thought he had asked civilly, Ron threw him a punch across the jaw so hard that Draco still had the bruise this morning.

Hermione wondered if he had forgotten to go to the hospital wing or if he had kept it for other reasons. Now that he knew what had been, it hurt him every day they were apart. A blow to the face was nothing compared to what she was doing to him, but she refused to go back to him.

"What right have you to say goodbye to us?" he had asked her before giving her the letter. She had hidden it in her book before Ron came but had been too scared to read it so as far as he knew she had never gotten it. Draco had a way with words. Each verb was like a spell to her. Knowing him, he probably _had_ enchanted it, so she didn't dare open. But she kept it, like she kept all of his that was once theirs.

She couldn't resist and slowly took out the letter from her book and hid it under her desk as she began to open it. Ron hadn't noticed but Draco, who had been staring since class began, saw it and shifted in his seat. She could feel his excitement and quickly closed it.

_Please open it, Hermione,_ he begged sweetly in her head.

_No,_ she replied. _I told you not to find me this way. _

_Please! I cannot let you be until you read the letter. _

She sighed, which Ron and Harry noticed, and looked over at the Slytherins. Most were half-dressed and sweating like bulls while Snape hummed at the head of the class, writing on the board ingredients and instructions that no one really noticed.

Draco still had his shirt on but it was completely open in the front and she felt a heat run through her. It made him smile at her coyly, feeling it himself. She loved how his tie was undone. It reminded her of the night when she had untied it _for_ him… as well as the rest of his clothes. She felt a light tingle over her heart and it spread to her arms, a cooling sensation.

_Damn you,_ she thought and opened the letter completely.

At the first words, she blushed. "My dearest Hermione," it said. That alone made her shiver all over and close up her blouse a button or two. It was as gentle as the breeze in what was once their bed. She closed her eyes tightly for a moment then continued to read it on her lap, making it seem like she was concentrating on the textbook before her.

**_My dearest Hermione,_**

**_I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you shun me so. I thought it best to get that out first. Happy Valentine's Day, by the way. I'm only sorry we can't spend it together. _**

**_Perhaps it'd be easier to say I was born without a heart. I never cared, nor feared. But I know I loved you, Hermione, no matter what went on between us. I can feel it just as I know you can. You could say I was born a cold monster, a calculating beast. But you'd be wrong. I had a heart once, but know you didn't kill it, dear. It was dead before it reached you. My soul withered into the evil around me. The hands that held you felt only warmth and for this I know I must have exploited you. Was this the cause of your ill will towards me?_**

**_I know you loved me, not because you told me -- not because I know I would have died for you -- but because you cared enough to remember me even after my own memories were taken. I fight for you now because I know of no other thing to do, even as futile as living without you has become. _**

**_Pass on your wisdom but take my secrets with you and know that your company has made my living an art. And I'll forever watch over you, even if it's just in my dreams, so you never fade into the darkness of the human soul._**

**_You are still connected to me, Hermione. And I welcome you to me any day. I hide now, under all my hypocrisy, false promises, and endless self-imposed solitude, the true cause of my valiant jailer. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I only hope the wound was deep enough so you will always carry the scar of my pain with you._**

**_I'll love you always, Hermione, for there is nothing else I know to do than what my heart seems to press upon me._**

**_Forever yours,_**

_**Draco.** _

She closed it slowly, rereading it several times. Ron heard what could have been another sigh only to see her hunched over her book. He put a hand on her back -- something Draco growled at in the distance -- and asked her if she was alright. She lifted up her head but refused to look at him. He placed a gentle hand under her chin and made her face him. Her face was covered in slow-flowing tears, her eyes two red markers of pain.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he whispered and turned a bit more serious. "What'd he do?"

"Nothing. Forget it. I'm fine."

He looked over at Draco who looked worried as well, having shed his devious smile.

_Hermione?_ he asked._ What's wrong? Was it the letter?_

_Leave me alone, Draco,_ she replied. _Please._

"Everyone, just leave me alone," she said out loud.

Snape turned around, noticing the time, and excused the class. Hermione got her things together so quickly that before the others could stand up, she was already running out the door.

Ron looked at Draco like it was his fault but Draco only sneered back. While the others left, the two stared at each other. Ron nodded towards the door, trying to keep his anger in check.

Once outside, Draco spoke first. "I didn't do anything. I swear. I just gave--"

"I don't care," Ron interrupted. "I thought I could be ok with it. I thought it didn't matter that she loved you because she wasn't with you. She was with me. And that meant something to me. But she's not mine to keep, Malfoy."

"What are you saying, Weasley?" he asked, arching his eyebrow dangerously high.

"You deserve the truth. She's with me out of guilt, Draco. She doesn't want you to know… that she forced you to erase your memory. Or that she didn't give you the whole potion. I think she's waiting for the effects to wear off, that she still keeps hope, but I truly believe she loves you no matter how evil, how cruel. She's not like other girls, Draco. If she fell in love with you, it wasn't because of the curse or she would have forgotten you already."

"Then help me!" he yelled.

"How?"

Draco looked tired, weary as he said, "Tell me what I did to make her love me the first time."

Ron sighed. "Alright," he said, and began the story of the Quarter Moon Gamble.

-----

Hermione walked down the path by the lake during lunch, where Ron had told her to meet him. He had left the Great Hall first, to the location, she figured. She was to follow a few moments later. She wondered why he had been so cloak and dagger-y about it but began to imagine what he had planned for Valentine's.

When she reached the stump of the old tree where she had dropped her books the first time she met up with Draco after the dance, she had to stop to breathe like the memory of events in that very spot had robbed the air from her lungs and turned her stomach to sludge.

But she moved on towards the boulders where Ron had told her to meet him. The sky hid behind ominous clouds. How she remembered the joy of kissing in the rain. Now it was just another force looming over and laughing at her.

She kept on but soon, the boulders became hidden under a great black blur in the distance. As she neared it, cautiously, she saw a little blonde figure beside it. Draco, she knew. She could feel his presence and his anxiousness as he neared. Beside him stood a great steed black as night with a silver mane.

"Draco, what are you doing here? And with a horse?" she hissed, hoping Ron had not seen them and looking around per chance she had to hide.

"Come," he said, walking towards her with the horse's reins in hand, extended for her to take. "Ride with me."

"I can't," she said, truly wishing she could take his hand. She longed for him. Her desire turned into a knot at her throat and she couldn't help looking back to see if Ron had come.

"He's not coming. I talked to him."

"With Ron? About what? Draco, what did you do?"

"He approached _me_, after you read the letter."

She smiled at the thought of the letter. "It was lovely but I-- What did he say to you?" she began but sighed, coming closer and feeling the air escape her again.

He was so serious. She hadn't seen him like that since she found him in Venice. Not even after bleeding to death did he have this face. It was two things: a serious attempt to get her back or a tragic farewell. She detested either outcome.

But she was wrong. It was neither. "He told me what happened before… why I lost my memory."

She let go a small whimper and the knot in her throat turned into possible vomit. "Oh God, Draco…"

"I don't care. Don't worry about that. All I worry is that I'll feel different after the memories come back."

She opened her eyes a little wider. "He told you that too?"

"Everything."

"But why?" she asked with a slight, sudden sob.

Draco sighed and moved in closer, moving a lose strand of hair from her face back behind her ear. She got goosebumps all down her body. "He knows you don't love him, Hermione… at least not in the way he'd like. And he's fine with it. He feels it'd be selfish to keep you to himself when he knows what's happened between us is irrefutable."

"Oh Ron… He didn't say that, did he?"

"He always knew you didn't love him."

"It's not about love. It's about need. It's about want," she insisted sternly, trying to ignore that he was standing so close.

"Where'd you get _that_ from?"

She looked down and whispered, "You."

"I'm a genius then, not that I didn't already know," he said with the smallest smile, which on him seemed to reflect monstrously throughout his whole face, making the clouds part from the sun in her mind. "But you don't want him, Hermione. It's cruel to make him think that. You needed him, yes, but you could never be with him. We are a… _superficial_ species. We care about attraction and heat and the physical desires... You have no idea how much I want you right now."

She let another whimper escape and he lowered down to kiss her but she pulled away. He pulled her in by the small of her back against him. She looked slightly afraid but did not part. He hadn't held her this close since their last night at the Spyder Club.

But this kiss… it was not like the others he had taken from her. He was afraid to kiss her, she could tell. No matter how forceful he tried to be, he did not have their history. For all he knew, he was kissing a stranger. And it felt lovely.

She tried to erase all her doubts but all that was left in that single extended moment was the anatomy of his kiss, as so she had come to memorize. When he began to move away from her lips to her cheek and down her neck, she trembled despite his tenderness. The goosebumps began to sting and she felt exposed, naked.

When he began for her clavicle under her cloak, she cleared her throat of the knot and pulled away. He smiled down at her, his now longer hair falling over his eyes in wild strands. She had never seen him look so bewildered with child-like curiosity. This was not her Draco, but she liked him better.

He grabbed her hand, the smile refusing to fade, and led her to the neighing horse. "Come on," he said again, now more enthusiastic. She let him take her away, mainly because she was still trapped in the moments she had taken from him, now reliving through her mind in flashes of guilt and lust.

She mounted the horse and looked back at the castle as it slowly faded into the distance, and she left behind all her troubles, her responsibilities, and the last of her sanity.

-----

They rode for a while in silence. She wondered why the horse hadn't gotten tired by now. They were going so fast that no matter how long she stared at the ground, she never saw the horse's feet touch the cold, wet grass, no matter how close they were.

"Draco," she whispered against his back, her hands comfortably around his waist. "Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" he said back, placing a hand over one of hers atop his waist. She whimpered slightly and he took it as a yes. "Somewhere I go to find myself… a part of me anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you and I will never be safe back there. And here we'll at least be alone."

"I don't like the way you said that, Draco."

"Well I'm not the Draco you knew, remember?"

"Then how can I know to trust you."

"You can't. But you know as long as this damn curse runs through me, I can do you no harm… And I know… a small part of you still believes I can be him again. That alone should be enough, right?"

"One would think so, but I never trusted the one I knew fully either. He always had some crazy scheme or went out to hunt lake monsters for stupid bets and getting hit by lightening… Good thing you never told me all the details or I may have died of fret," she said with slight reproach and fear.

"Heh. Really? I did all that?"

"And more," she said in a disapproving tone.

He smiled brilliantly and gave her hand upon his waist a small reassuring squeeze. "Well I'm fine now. And I'm here. And _you_ are here. Isn't that all that matters?"

Hermione let a tear leave her to the icy winds of the ride. "In a perfect world perhaps, but you are not perfect and I can never be."

"You're perfect to _me_. And if you're with me, it is a perfect world."

"Then you live in fairy tales, Draco."

"Can I be Cinderella, then?" She thought he was joking.

Hermione lifted her cheek from the soft fabric of the back of his cloak in sudden shock. "Cinderella?"

"Well yea. See Sleeping Beauty, all she got to do was just lie there. Snow White had to deal with god-awful gnomes. Cinderella at least got to go to a ball and dance with her prince and look all pretty for a night before going back to reality. I'd rather be rescued from poverty, too. Why send a princess into seclusion or a glass case? It's a silly thing silly royalty does to preserve their silliness," he said and made a small scoff. She could tell he was passionate about this, as if it was alright to define one's life with fairy tales. "If I could choose… I'd live the rest of my life as a poor servant boy if it meant keeping the memory of the one night."

She felt like crying. She had taken his memories, knowing this all too well. He had always cherished his memories of her so, just as he had cherished her. She laid her cheek back onto his back and held on for dear life as the horse jumped over a river and into a brick wall. When she opened her eyes, she was on the other side of the wall and the horse was now slowly walking towards a ridiculously large castle with large round towers and over five floors with who knows how many rooms.

"Draco, where are we?"

"I know I promised to take you to my castle by Hogwarts, so we could be safe. This is it. This is Castle Farrow. It's impenetrable by anyone without Malfoy blood," he said as he lowered her off the horse

"You're kidding? You have your own castle? I had a fort made out of pillows in my living room," she said, looking up at the monstrosity of a building. "Is it French?"

"Yes, how'd you know? My father flew it here from Brissac for my 12th birthday. He got tired of me hiding out in the pantry whenever I got mad or sad and just said, 'If you have to run off someplace, do it as far away as possible.' So here it is."

Hermione furrowed her brow. That was a horrible reason to buy a son a castle. She felt ridiculous that she even thought there was a good reason. "Why is it called Farrow?"

"It was the name of someone I truly cared about. I think she was the first thing I ever even came close to loving." She raised an eyebrow. He laughed as they walked onto the moat and said, "It was a Kanenayar. It's a--"

"--mythical bird with the head and torso of a human but the wings and feet of a bird common to Myanmar mythology. Though obviously, it's not so mythical."

He suddenly became very serious, took her hand, and led her down the long hallway to one of the bedrooms on the fifth floor to a small tower. "Yes, it is. It was one of my father's creations. He took this poor Muggle girl from the town outside Malfoy Manor, with whom I made the horrible mistake of talking to once on our walks through the market. She was eight years old. I was ten. The day after I saw her, I woke up to find a trail of feathers by the side of my bed. I followed it to my father's study. He had turned her into a Kanenayar to teach me a lesson: never talk to the lower class. I took care of her as best I could, mostly out of guilt. She was mine for two months. And then one day I woke and she too had left me."

"Why a Kanenayar?" she asked, not bothering to think how his father got a hold on such Dark magic.

"They're a symbol of true love. I suppose he was trying to tell me I could only ever love one person and this was not her. He would not accept anything other than perfection in my mate, and if she wasn't, I was dead to him too."

He opened the door to the tower with the same serious face but as soon as he saw the setting sun in the distant sky through the large window, he smiled and paused at the entrance.

"Draco?" she asked, bewildered at his sudden change of face.

"Shhhh…" he hissed. "Just look." And he pulled her hand towards the French doors leading onto the balcony, completely ignoring anything in the room.

"It's lovely," she said, looking for anything really to bring his attention back to her and this enormous castle and the fact that he might as well have kidnapped her.

"Did this mean anything to us? The sunset? Whenever I look at it, I feel like it's important to me for some reason I should remember."

"No… uh… Well sure the first time we…" She chuckled nervously and tried to rephrase her words. "You loved… I can't vouch for what went on in your head but you'd stare out through the window in our room almost every night now that I think of it."

"Did we… every night?" he asked, a little scared.

She opened her eyes wide and shook her head quickly. "No! Of course not. I think it did remind you of it though. You had the same silly smile as the morning after."

"Really?" he said with a raised eyebrow and a devious smile.

"Yea… kind of like that one," she responded with narrowed, playfully reproachful eyes.

He laughed and took her hand again, leading her back to the center of the room. "This is my favorite room in the entire castle," he said. "The first night I came here, there was a full moon. I spent it reading right there on the balcony."

"By moonlight? What were you reading might I ask?"

"Absolute smut, love," he said with a bright smile. She smiled back, but quickly looked away. She was surprised how at ease she was with him. She knew it wasn't her Draco but it was hard not to feel comfortable around him. Maybe he really was and she was just denying him for her own selfish gains. "Let me show you to your room."

He grabbed her hand again and went to pull her out the room but she stayed put. He looked at her questioningly but she wouldn't budge. Their hands still held together the distance between them. "No," she whispered and looked down. "This room is fine."

"Oh alright." He looked cheery, not really getting her point. "I'll go to the guest room, then."

But she still wouldn't let him go. "Stay," she whispered, her eyes still low.

He looked a little bit uncomfortable for a moment but took a step towards her, remembering her kiss and feeling the Veela heat run through him. "Hermione, I-- I can't really-- Well I shouldn't really… stay."

"See you're right," she said, coming even closer to him. "I think you are the one I knew. Caring about me never changed you. You were always the sweet man I knew. The world, especially the Slytherins, couldn't accept that though and you fit the mold you were born into, but you were always the man I knew. You still are. Two months' worth of memory doesn't change that."

He had looked away as she walked closer, trying not to admit the truth behind her words. "Dinner!" he yelled out of nowhere and looked up at her eagerly. "How 'bout it? You hungry?"

"Sure," she said with a tired smile, and followed him back down the stairs to the second floor.

Apparently, the entire first floor was for handling guests, which meant there were about four living rooms, two "recreation" rooms, five bathrooms, four sitting areas, and two kitchens. Why someone would need two kitchens was beyond her.

The second floor was for eating and dancing. It was full of different types of dining rooms and ballrooms and two giant banquet halls. It too had a bathroom in every hall.

Third and fourth floors were for guests and random bedrooms. Fifth had a pool on the roof and had many towers. Hermione was sure there were dungeons and catacombs and some of the towers were formerly prisons but she didn't mention it. It had been made to fit his style perfectly. Most rooms were green, silver/grey, or blue, or a mix of all with black and… well it was suited for a guy, a Slytherin. Their room on the fifth floor was a beautiful blue/grey with grey marble everywhere.

But what astounded Hermione the most was the dining room he took them to on the second floor. She walked in and the table had already been set. It was ridiculously long from one side of the room to the other, about the entire size of the entire girls' dormitory back at Hogwarts now that she thought about it.

"This looks lovely," she said, admiring the large bouquets of white lilies and roses that alternated down the table. The tablecloth was white as well with trims in lace and a single chandelier floated above them, lighting the entire room with its brilliance. "It's incredible. But… where do I sit?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked around. "Well the lady of the house would usually sit at the other end but I don't exactly hate you enough to call you the lady of the house so why don't you sit beside me."

"I have a better idea," she said with a smirk. "Take me to the kitchen."

Draco furrowed his brow but gestured she come back to the door and headed down the stairs again. The stairs were lovely as well so she didn't really care. They spiraled down the center of the castle. A single flight, never ending by what it seemed.

Draco dismissed all the house elves who scurried off quickly. She looked at him crossly for even having house elves. "You can start the elf-liberation front in the house tomorrow, dear. Just tell me what you had in mind."

"Got any ice cream? I'm not really all that hungry."

"Ice cream? We have a 12-course meal waiting for us and you want ice cream?"

"Stop trying to make things complicated!" she yelled in her playful tune. She was so annoying sometimes. "Have you any idea how… wonderful… certain foods can be? Ice cream happens to be glorious when you're feeling ridiculously week-stomached."

"Why would you feel like that? You're with me, remember? I'm still _that_ Draco according to you, right?"

"Stop being cheeky and eat some ice cream," she said with a smile as she shoved a spoon against his chest. Before he grabbed it, he caressed her hand under his on his chest and smiled adoringly as he used to do the morning afters.

-----

It was the middle of the night and Hermione couldn't sleep. She sensed neither could Draco. He was only in the room across the hall but she couldn't dare go over there. She had settled into the guest room well enough. This one was red and gold and she figured it had been decorated at last minute just for her. Draco never did know her favorite color was blue, not this one at least.

She stared up at the bed canopy for some time. It had bewitched to look like outer space. A comet or a moon floated randomly over her head at times but it was somewhat soothing. The nebulas kept her heart alive with beautiful colors and elegance amongst endless darkness.

She figured she was like that to Draco, a glimmer of hope in the dreary world he was born to, but felt like it was not a thought of her own. He felt it and therefore, she was entitled to it too. Veelas were just ridiculous creatures really.

Suddenly, she heard her door creak open but felt no need to be afraid. A figure walked towards her, slender and tall with hair over his eyes and she knew it was Draco. She quickly sat up but there was no light to speak of. A new moon had begun the night before.

She lied back down as he sat on the edge and slipped under the covers beside her, turning in so they were nose to nose. She could feel his proximity but the only light to the entire room was the occasional comet or tiny speck of star in the canopy.

His hand caressed her hair but she just looked for the first indication of a smile, a face, a reason he would come to her bed. He hadn't made a move to kiss her. His hand slipped down her arm as it had before on nights they'd spent back at Hogwarts.

"Tell me about Farrow," she whispered as his hand settled on her waist and drew her closer.

He went to pull his hand and leave but she grabbed it and held him down to her waist with her right hand. "She was a child, Hermione," his voice broke through the darkness.

"But she meant a lot to you. Tell me about her."

"Farrow was not her name. I never _knew_ her real name. She had me give it to her. She was sweet, as any innocent can be. She was a very sad person who felt what had been done to her was an act of God. I told her my father was no god, no more than I was a prince. She was the one who told me about Cinderella and all those fairy tales. I had never heard of them before. They were purely Muggle creations. But she never stopped believing her Prince Charming would come to rescue her from the Manor…" he said and choked on his own grief. "And then my father broke her neck and left her to bleed on the floor because I had become 'too attached'… and she never got to find her Charming. All she had was me, a sad excuse for a human being even when I couldn't understand why everything was happening. I couldn't protect her, couldn't even make her stop crying whenever it rained. After she died, I blamed it on _her_ and was inconsolable for quite some time, and then Hogwarts started. By then, I had learned to hate Muggles, just as my father had told me to. He'd won and I didn't even know it. I just wanted it to just… go away. And she did, for quite some time."

Draco's hand went to her cheek and found cold tears running down her face, soaking the pillow below. Her eyes were closed shut but they still kept streaming down.

"Don't cry, Hermione," he said lovingly. "It's all a memory… just another memory. It can't hurt me anymore."

"You loved her though, didn't you? As close to love as you ever came. And because of me, she had to die, because there could only be one."

"I never loved her, not the way I love you. I cared for her, yes, but I was an arrogant child. At first, I thought her a pet of guilt. And then she became a companion. She was just a piece of my past. I knew I couldn't have told you before. I've never told anyone."

"I'll find her for you, Draco. I promise," she whispered and kissed him lightly, desperately trying to resolve her own olden guilt.

"Just don't leave. I can't stand to be alone again."

"You won't have to be. I'm here, love. I promise you I won't leave."

"Nobody keeps their promises, Hermione. They're just words. Stay and prove me wrong."

-----

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**-----**

**REFERENCES, ALLUSSIONS, AND INSPIRATIONS:**

_Though I don't like to quote other works, it's always funny to reminisce what inspired some of the hilarious scenes in The Quarter Moon Gamble. This is to all the fans._

-

Chapter 1:

The entire basis of the "bet" came from something that actually happened to me where I came ridiculously close to kissing someone for the sake of a silly wager. I was lucky I got out of it. Draco… he got lucky anyway.

-

Chapter 2:

**Piccadilly **-- A restaurant in the States whose name I thought was hilarious but have never been to

**Spyder Club** -- an actual club in the US, one of the most exclusive celebrity joints actually. Not sure if the spelling is the same.

"**Well thank you Captain Obvious"** -- a shout-out to a friend of mine

**The entire make-out scene at the end of chapter 2** -- recycled from a story I had started but never finished

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Chapter 4:

"**Think unsexy thoughts! Think unsexy thoughts!"** -- from the _Simpsons_

"**Care for some chips, mate?"** -- Geico commercial

"**Drama Queen"** -- a hilarious HP icon I once saw

**Showing up naked to potions** -- from the movie _She's All That_ but I hadn't realized it until a reviewer mentioned it

**-**

Chapter 5:

"**It _is _mid-winter. So don't judge."** -- personal joke involving winter shrinkage and honeymoons in Antarctica.

"…**have you a phobia for germs or something?"** -- shout-out to the show _Monk_ and my own OCD

**Umbrella to fly off the roof** -- Mary Poppins

"**Where's the devil incarnate?"** -- in honor of my friend Stephy

"…**reading list beginning with the Kama Sutra"** -- another personal joke I had running with two English teacher about what would happen if my grandmother found my copy of the sutras (my grandma doesn't speak English so we're only considering her reaction to the pretty pictures)

**Roark Potion** -- in honor of Roarke from Fantasy Island because if I had a wish, it would be to find my Draco… or pass eleventh grade math. Whatever!

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Chapter 6:

**Hermione's dream** -- I was watching _Something's Gotta Give_ on TV at the time and thought the beach was lovely

**Task #3: Get hit by lightning** -- it was raining ridiculously hard the night I wrote that so I figured why not add it

**Veela OnStar** -- after the car tracking service and a joke about OnStar helping a blonde get out of a car because she couldn't work the handle

"**You are just pathetically horny, aren't you?"** -- the future title of my autobiography

**Sexual indoctrination of vampire clans** -- from a kinky vampire short story I once wrote

**Hermione's caffeine/chocolate addictions** -- my own

**Using the word "sex" to mean a person's 'private areas'** -- used by Anne Rice in _Sleeping Beauty_

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Chapter 7:

"…**vast expanses of raw skin"** -- from a scene in _Buffy_. I wished someone would draw on me with paint and calligraphy brushes HINT for following chapters...

**A boy in a rubber bubble floating on the water **-- from the movie _Bubble Boy _and from a scene in _The Avengers_ a loooong time ago

**Dumbledore knowing Draco cursed his mother** -- joke from Stephy

-

Chapter 8:

**Stealing ink from a sea monster** -- reminds me of _The Little Mermaid_ (the Disney version)

**Hitting someone with a bag of bricks** -- _101 Dalmatians_, the 90's movie

"…**play with the flame of a candle at his family's dinner parties"** -- something I'd do with my Dad when bored at parties

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Chapter 9:

"**Incendio Paredis!"** -- Incendio meaning a fire or to ignite. Paredis from the word "Pared" meaning wall.

"**Caring is the first thing that goes with turning evil. Family is next, then love"** -- originally referring to alcoholism in _Bagger Vance_

**The wooden box** -- currently sitting on _my_ vanity table, originally a gift for my friend Iris but I gave her a friendship bracelet instead

-

Chapter 10:

**Venice** -- I was watching _The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_ while writing

**The scene on the dock** -- inspired by _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_, also in Venice

**The swarm flying in the distance** -- inspired by Michael Crichton's _Prey_

**The description of the Venice house** -- came from a picture I Googled of a Venice house

-

Chapter 11:

**Being a slave just to be with the one you love** -- Shakespeare's sonnet #57, my favorite

**The necklace that didn't really mean anything** -- _Sex and the City's_ final episode

"**Well sex is just such wonderful motivation"** -- private joke

"…**a few plants in the mold and see if they grow?"** -- _Simpsons_. The _Lord of the Flies_ episode where Lisa eats mold while everyone else eats a boar

**Teach to love and be loved in return** -- remix of line in _Moulin Rouge_

-

Chapter 12:

"**I'll be seeing you"** -- from _The Notebook_ soundtrack and one of my favorite singers, though it's sung better by Billie Holiday

"**Moonlight Serenade"** -- another favorite, and a reference to _Doctor Who_

"**War and Peace"** -- _Stargate: Atlantis_, the episode where John says he took a long book to read for a long trip

**Scene when they're facing each other on the bed** -- from a scene in _Requiem for a Dream_

"**No more whipped cream!"** -- joke with an old friend, scene in an old novel of mine, and from a horrid scene in _Not Another Teen Movie_

-

Chapter 13:

**Eating chocolates out of grief on the bed** -- from _Blood and Chocolate, _one of my favorite books by Annette Curtis Klause

"**He did it to himself…"** -- originally in the plot, he had. The rewrite said otherwise but I forgot to change it.

"**By Saint Peter's church and Peter too!" --** a line from Shakespeare's Romeo _and Juliet_, said by Juliet in refusal to marry Paris

**Blood connection by blood pact or mark** -- from an episode of _Charmed_ with the Brotherhood and Cole

"**Rumpelstiltskin"** -- a Grimm fairy tale with another funny name

"**Tell me of us" and the desire to remember lost loves after memories got erased** -- inspired by _Stargate SG-1_ episode #705: "Revisions," season 7

-

Chapter 14:

**The letter** -- parts were from one of my short stories called "Letter from an Immortal" but the letter itself was inspired by a music video that redid the scene in _HP 3_, the movie, where Draco sends Harry the paper bird. You can find a link of it on my userpage on this site.

**Farrow** -- the name came from a list I did of all my favorite names. It seemed like a cool reference to a bird, since it _was_ Draco that named her.

**Kanenayar** -- an actual mythological bird from Burma. You might want to look it up. It'll keep being referenced, especially in the prequel.

**The castle being moved from France** -- concerning the love story of this place called Coral Castle in Florida, and several other references where castles were moved brick by brick.

**Brissac and the description of the castle** -- came from an actual existing castle in a place called Brissac in France that belonged to the Lord of Brissac… or something like that. You can see it in a tour or online.

**Joining an animal and a human** -- _Full-Metal Alchemist _and the "chimeras", also mythological creatures.

"**A single flight…" of stairs** -- from the song "One Flight Down" by Norah Jones, one of my favorite songs

**Cinderella** -- my favorite fairy tale when I was 6 and for years after

**-----**

**REVIEW!**


	15. Into the Arms of Evil Uncertain

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART FIFTEEN

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_A new character is introduce for a few scenes, dedicated to one of my reviewers who is absolutely obsessed with a certain gecko we all love. You know who you are._

_If anyone wants to suggest story lines or names or anything silly you'd like to read, maybe a private joke you'd like me to add, I'm all for it and I always mention you up here. So do review! Please note that I can't promise I'll add everything. _

_Special thanks to the C2 "Leather Librarians" for adding me as well._

**IMPORTANT:**_ I'm currently looking for someone to draw out some scenes for the Gamble. If anyone knows someone that might be interested, or knows of already drawn works that sort of fit the storylines, please tell me where to find it. It's for my own collection but I also like to post them on my userpage. Please remember that if you send me a link, this site hides them. Replace all the periods with the word "dot" and I'll figure it out. _

_Much love to all, from Grace, your lovely neurotic. And now…_

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Where the Mark had once been, only a thin shadow now burned for eternity telling them never to forget the evils of the world. He had grown healthier over the week at Castle Farrow. He smiled more often and greeted her with truly romantic gestures: a rose, a kiss, a chocolate treat… She had come to expect them, and he never failed to remember.

By the third day, there wasn't a House Elf left in the entire castle. She thought Draco would be furious but he only laughed when he saw Hermione enter wearing a simple grey apron and carrying two plates to eat in their nook in the first kitchen.

The first kitchen had become their dining room now that it was just the two of them. She had yet to see the second kitchen and really couldn't care less. They had time to explore every corner of the castle, right? All Draco had told her was that it was considerably smaller, which to him might have meant two inches or two feet or two stories. All she knew was that it could very well be the size of her entire house.

"You really should at least let me hire a maid," he said in the middle of dinner on the third day. "We can't live off ice cream forever."

"Don't be ridiculous! I can handle the cooking. So could you, come to think of it." He looked down at his food, a large plate of fettuccini alfredo that to any Muggle would have seemed a feast, and just furrowed his brow. "Don't you do that face!"

He smiled and looked back up to her. "Fine, I'll learn to eat your tiny portions."

"Are you kidding? You never eat everything. You leave half a plate of food every night."

"And I'm used to leaving _six_ half plates every night."

"I refuse to make you food you won't eat."

"Then it's settled! I'll hire a maid!" he said joyously. She sneered and threw a spoon in his direction. "And I'll pick up a helmet while I'm at it."

"Don't be silly," she said, beginning to smile. "I've thrown an entire textbook at you, three combined volumes might I add, and you came out of it unscathed."

"A whole Hogwarts textbook? Thank God you throw like a girl," he said, taking another bite with a smile. He wasn't used to their pointless bouts of witty banter, but somehow, he was so comfortable around her that he immediately accommodated to teasing her.

"Well I _am_ a girl. What's your excuse?"

He laughed and then there was silence for a moment. They both knew a question was coming that they didn't want to deal with. "What exactly was it I did to make you throw a book at me?" he asked.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and quickly narrowed her eyes. "Your past sexual exploits with chamber maids, random hookers I'm sure, and half of Slytherin."

He smirked, whether in remembrance or out of a sense of satisfaction at seeing her jealous face, she wasn't sure. "I told you all that, huh? But it was never chamber maids, and hardly any Slytherins, not that they haven't tried to literally crawl into my pants."

She didn't bother to address the issue of random hookers and said quickly, "How many is hardly?"

"One."

"Pansy?"

"How'd you know?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"The girl practically _bit me_ when she saw you and me together."

"Ha! No, no… she only nibbles, which is bloody annoying."

"I really didn't need to know that," she said and shut her eyes shut tight to try to erase the mental picture.

"Hey, I go where the conversation leads me. Besides, Pansy wasn't nearly as good as the third Weird Sister."

Hermione quickly looked up, stunned, not really caring much for jealousy as her curiosity blocked all coherent thinking. She still didn't consider him her Draco and all events before her were put to pasture… just as Farrow had been.

"Well," he continued at the look on her face, "she wasn't really a Weird Sister, but she damn well looked like her."

"Look-alikes don't count as the actual person."

"No I mean she took a Polyjuice Potion to look like her because she'd found out I liked them and tried to get with me. One of those random hookers you're trying to avoid."

"Oh… Oh! Well, I understand actually," she said, recalling certain events with Harry. "We had our own Polyjuice incident." He raised an eyebrow. She had ignited his curiosity as well. "Don't ask."

"Well I was sort of planning to so why don't you explain it to me… Frankly, I had no idea you were so kinky."

"No, no… I was technically sleeping with you… the way you were sleeping with the Weird Sister."

"You mean you cheated on me? With me?" he yelled, a little bit more furious. "Well… you lack imagination, then."

"It was an accident! It was your own ruddy fault anyway!"

"Who was it?" he asked, no longer curious and feeling the sting of jealousy.

She looked up at him again and hesitated. If she told him the truth, she would have to tell him about Ron and that was an even grander betrayal.

"Harry Potter," she finally said as quietly as possible before he could inquire further.

He stared at her for a moment and tried to be civil and just ended up swallowing all of his pain or shock. He had, after all, told her of _his_ exploits and he knew before his memories were erased and had obviously gotten past that minor detail. There was no reason to fret but he couldn't help feel something try to eat his stomach from the inside out and slowly making its way to his intestines.

"Draco?" she asked after quite a longer silence than he had anticipated nor realized had passed.

"Sorry. I sort of went off there for a moment. What were we talking about?" he asked as he went to drink some of his wine.

"The fact that I shagged Harry Potter," she said as bluntly as possible to get a response. And she got it.

He began to choke on his wine and she laughed and patted him on the back. He went back to looking intently at his food. "You know, you really know how to take the joy from a conversation, dear."

"It took years of practice on Harry and Ron but I can pretty much 'kill your buzz' at will."

He started laughing again, which she found to be a good sign. "Darling, Pansy wasn't really that big a stretch _and_ she practically raped me, but sleeping with my arch-nemesis really killed pretty much killed any chances of _us_ sleeping together tonight."

"You and I both know damn well that you'll find my bed in the dark with your eyes closed." This was true. Three days of staying at Castle Farrow and they still had not had sex but couldn't stand spending the night alone in bed. So, Draco would come into her room every night after they had gone to bed and lie beside her and they would talk or sleep but hardly touch aside from the occasional caress.

She didn't even remember sleeping the days Draco had forgotten them. She knew she must have but those nights seemed to have blended into one giant nightmare.

"Who else?" he asked very seriously all of a sudden, playing with his food to avoid her gaze.

_He knows_, she thought. _He suspects._

"He told you, didn't he?" she said in a small voice, hoping he hadn't heard her thoughts.

"No, but I figured. No one would stay so devoted to someone without at least one night of sex."

"Ron would. As would you come to think of it, but you really had no choice."

"He had this look on his face that just spoke pictures."

"What look is that?" she asked, hoping to hear some news that she had not hurt Ron as gravely as she thought.

"The look of a man who's woken up to the face of a woman he knows can never be his."

She thought about it for a second and began to feel a little hurt. "You woke up to _my_ face this morning. Is that how you felt?"

"Not you, Hermione! Every woman before you-- there was such an empty satisfaction in the morning. With you, just sleeping beside you and hearing you breathe is enough to make me want to freeze the moment forever."

She didn't really smile, though she wanted to. Their conversation had gone from playful to serious and she had missed the void of comfort in-between, hoping to take back the last few minutes as easily as she took his memories.

-----

She had found the gardens the night of the fourth day. It had been cold all through February, which she didn't really care for. The chances of seeing him in swim trunks alone were enough for her to beg for summer.

She loved the gardenias in the east wing. At night, she could smell them a mile away. When he came looking for her, it was as if the gardenias were drawing him to her, amplifying their want. The air around the bushes had such a warm musk that it made her wish he'd just steal her back to their bed and have his way with her. She took a bouquet with her as he led her down the path to the moat.

She set it beside her bed and waiting for him to come to her with all the lights on. When he walked in, he could feel the hot musk in the air and could feel her near but she wasn't in bed. The bathroom door was closed and figured she was inside. He saw the gardenias on the nightstand and went to them but as soon as he touched one of the soft white petals, the bathroom door opened and he slowly turned around as if something told him not to.

There she was, Hermione, wearing a green teddy with silver lace linings. He opened his eyes wide and smiled as she looked ridiculously uncomfortable. "Merry Christmas," she said with a smile, trying to take a step towards him in those ridiculous high heels.

"What? Hermione, it's February."

"Well, I got to open your gift but you never got to open mine. This is it," she said and wobbled towards him. "Would you care to unwrap it?"

He raised an eyebrow but smiled. His hands went reluctantly to the bodice and a single ribbon that crisscrossed down the front, holding the entire top together. For some reason, his hand began to shake as the ribbon slowly became undone. She became observant of his shyness. She reminded herself this wasn't her Draco but it was still his hands, those long slender wands that had found her every curve on more than one occasion. They were still his arms and the chest she had rested upon on lazy mornings, and those were the same two legs that had wrapped around her so…

"Draco?" she asked as his hands froze holding the ribbon. "What's wrong?"

"Well see you're probably familiar with everything but for me… this is basically my first time with you, and there's a certain pressure behind it."

"How so?"

"Well you're pretty much going to be comparing me to… my previous self, who I might add is a ridiculously high standard, and not to mention that we no longer have the same Veela drive we had the first time and--"

She shook her head and raised a finger to his lips. "Shut up and kiss me, would you?"

"Come on, these are serious concerns."

She scoffed and looked down at how absurd she looked. "Draco, do you remember how you kissed me right before you brought me here? Do you remember how great that felt?" He nodded with a smile. "How about we start there and you can rediscover your hidden talents later?"

He smiled and lowered his lips to hers slowly, trying as always to make the moment last forever. She was right. The moment he kissed her, it was like his body remembered everything his mind never could and his hands went to her arms and at some point, they had undressed because the next thing Hermione knew, she was waking up the following morning in his arms with a tall figure standing over their bed.

"Holy crap!" she yelled at the man's serious face and disapproving crossed arms.

Draco woke up suddenly, sitting up and abandoning her on the sheet. "Holy crap!" he yelled too as he noticed the man at the foot of the bed. "Nigel, you scared the wits out of me."

"Nigel?" Hermione whispered in the background.

"I've always thought you had more wits than you had insults, sir. I doubt I've devoid you of either… unfortunately," Nigel responded with a face that reminded Hermione of Snape's permanent patronizing smirk. He bent down to pick up the bodice of her teddy with two delicate fingers and made a face of annoyance. "Where'd you pick this one up?"

Hermione looked shocked still, noticing she was still naked and covering herself up quickly with the sheets. "Hogwarts," she responded.

Draco smirked. "No dear, he thinks you're a prostitute."

"They come often, do they?" she said, slightly furious.

"No but it's not the first time he's caught me," he said and looked back up at Nigel. "Does my father know you're here?"

"No, and I wasn't followed. He thinks you've disappeared off the face of the planet, by the way."

"Does he know about Hermione?"

"I take it this is her? Yes, he knows she's left Hogwarts too. The Slytherins have made you out to be a betrayer, you know."

"Oh lovely," Draco said groggily, his hand to his head, and slowly went to lie back down.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Nigel said finally with a small smile and a bow of the head. Hermione slightly smiled back, her brow still furrowed in slight fear. Draco gave a small chuckle and made a gesture for Nigel to leave. "Breakfast will be ready when you come down, then."

And with that, Nigel the manservant went back to his kitchen as Hermione stared at Draco, awaiting angrily an answer.

"He's my butler, dear," he responded simply, going to get out of bed. She grabbed his arm and held him from pulling the sheets off himself.

"No," she said. "Stay the morning… Where else have we to go?"

He smiled and nestled back into bed beside her, feasting on the warmth and the scent of gardenias that floated over them.

-----

Draco and Hermione did not get out of bed all of the fifth day. At the start of evening, they got hungry and Nigel brought them some panini and some other Italian thing she'd never seen before. Apparently, it was a favorite of Draco's. She wondered if it had something to do with the Venice House or the summers he'd spent there as a boy.

They talked for quite some time even after that. It got to a point where she knew more intimate details about the Draco she had created with that damn memory potion than the one she had first loved. It felt almost like cheating, and then she thought of the night before and in those memories she knew they were one. She had slept with a single Draco that night. It was the one place she felt like she could reconnect with her old love.

She wondered what she would do once his memories returned. Would it mark the end, or a new beginning?

"What are you thinking?" he asked after a small silence where he would have thought she was asleep were he not connected to every part of her.

She opened her eyes and smiled. "The future," she said.

"Hmm. No wonder you didn't want me to hear. Having doubts?"

"Not doubts. Fears."

"I have to admit I'm afraid too."

"Of what?"

"Getting out of this bed and never feeling the same peace I feel when I'm with you." His face was so serious. Her smile faded and went to kiss him when Nigel showed up at the door. "I'm starting to reconsider having another person in the castle."

"I'm sorry to interrupt sir but I've received news from the Manor."

"What is it, Nigel? Just spit it out," Draco said, sitting up in bed again with a tired expression on his face.

"Your father's dead, sir. Your mother calls you home."

-----

Hermione walked into Draco's room sometime around noon of the sixth day. He was taking things out of the drawers on his bedside table and jamming them into his open suitcase on the bed. She knew he did _not_ handle grief well.

"It's a trap, you know," she said, leaning against the doorway.

"Possibly, not probably," he responded, cloaking his eyes through loose strands of hair. She didn't notice when he'd stopped sleeking it back. His entire appearance was lacking, as if he no longer cared. But his eyes… they were still the elegant gray she'd stared into those sleepless nights at Hogwarts.

"Take me with you." She was determined to follow him anywhere.

"Don't be ridiculous. I can't. If it is a trap, I need to know you'll be safe."

"There's nowhere safer than with you."

"Now who's living in fairy tales?" he replied cruelly and shut the suitcase with a loud, metal bang.

She slowly walked into the room, her hands in her jean pockets, and stood before the opposite edge of the bed. She looked down at the bed, at a letter inscribed with her name in dark gold ink. "What's this?" she asked, picking it up.

He paused and looked up at her through his eyelashes, still concealing his eyes. "Don't."

"What is this, Draco?" she asked more sternly. "Is this goodbye?"

She struggled to open it as quickly as possible, part of her own hidden hysteria. Inside was the letter she'd been dreading all her life. It was just a paragraph, the same courtesy she'd given him before leaving for Christmas.

_**I look down at my hands but they are not my own. My skin, I feel but am not connected to. I move but it is not of my own free will. And the eyes that felt the awe of your beauty last night meant nothing if I could not feel you beside me again. I don't know how it happened, Hermione, but I think I died back in that plaza. All that survived was the need to see you again and the now meaningless love I once fought to protect at all cost. I don't know if this is goodbye, but know it was not you that drove me away. If anything, it was you that kept me alive this long. Thank you, Hermione… for proving me wrong. **_

_**Draco.**_

He hadn't even begun it with his usual "Dearest Hermione" or ended it with "Love." It was cold. And worse. He remembered.

"Draco…" she whispered, a tear falling, letting the letter fall back onto the bed. Then she got a little angry. Why, she was unsure. "You remember the town, the torture?"

"I remember I called for you and you saved me. But I've been calling for months, Hermione. I've been begging for you to hear the part of me that had been hidden under the potion. I was screaming. But you only heard the superficial scars of what was once me. I…" but he had to stop. His voice began to break up under the pressure of his pain. She tried to make herself believe he wasn't angry but worse, he hurt. "I can't feel-- I can't feel anymore."

She ran around the bed and hugged him so hard it took all force of her hands to keep him close, but she endured if it meant having him closer for one more minute. "Don't say that, Draco, please!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

But he didn't hug her back. His hands dangled by his side, and she wondered whether or not he really could feel. "I think-- I think I'm broken… I woke up and I was dead. I can't even _see you_ the way I used to!"

She cried so much, her eyes stung and yet it couldn't have been more than a moment. "Don't leave, Draco."

"I have to… I'm the sole heir."

"You're just a kid!"

"Our childhoods were cut short the day we walked into Hogwarts, Hermione," he said and pushed away. "You're kidding yourself if you think we can go back now."

"Then, what?" she yelled as he grabbed the suitcase and turned for the door, his back to her. "What, Draco? Are you going to forget all of this happened and go back to your dark little world? Are you going to forget about me again?"

"It's a dark little world, but it's at least mine and it'll always have a place for me so long as my blood remains evil. If I choose to forget again, it'll be _my_ choice, Hermione. Consider yourself unbound. You are light, dear. I am the cancer that turns that light to dark… that withers the soul and takes your humanity. And what's worse, I laugh at it. Go back to your fairy tale world, Hermione, before I break you too," he said and took another step for the door.

"Stop!" she yelled. "Don't you dare do this, Draco! This is more than light and dark. Love is colorless. It lives in the shadow where both dwell and meet… and if you're to be the heir to that darkness, I'll be your queen."

He stopped and turned around. "You'd come with me? Live in evil?"

She looked sweetly at him. "Hey, we're already living in sin. What's a little bit more if it means I'll be with you?"

What looked like the beginnings of a smile dawned on his face. "Are you sure you're not just in it for the money?"

She looked at him crossly but smiled and he dropped the suitcase, and she ran to jump into his arms, the arms of evil uncertain. "Draco, it's not about good or evil. There's no black and white. There is the self and the collective. And if evil means I have to be selfish to be with you, I'll make you your own hell where we can rule."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

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**REFERENCES, ALLUSSIONS, AND INSPIRATIONS**, _continued_:

Chapter 15:

**Fettuccini alfredo -- **my favorite pasta that I used to eat every day when I was too lazy to fix up a sandwich when I came home from school

**A rose, a kiss, a chocolate treat** -- from a list of things I wanted in my perfect man, so that he would surprise me with something spontaneous every day

**Gardenias as a symbol for love and desire** -- from another short story I wrote but never finished called "The Scent of Gardenias"

**The teddy with the single ribbon** -- personal experience (but it was originally black and white)

**Panini** -- what I had for lunch the day I wrote this. Come to think of it… I'm hungry now!

**Draco's letter goodbye** -- the inspiration for the last section of the story, placed in at the last minute, and a description of how I really feel most days… as if my skin was not my own…

"…**_it was you that kept me alive this long."_** --****From a scene in the movie and book _A Walk to Remember _by Nicholas Sparks. It makes me cry every time.

--

**Silly facts:** I actually wrote the first half of this chapter while waiting for the hairdresser two days ago. I freaked her out because she thought I was recording everything she said. Some people are just paranoid, and it's a blast to play with their silly minds. Viva la conspiración!

**-----**

**REVIEW!**


	16. Finding Peace

**The Quarter Moon Gamble:** PART SIXTEEN

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: _This is the end... the final chapter. _**_I'm sorry I could not end it on better terms. I'm sorry they did not get a happy ending. I had wanted to continue this story for much longer but the opportunity came for me to stop, to get the ending I so hoped, and I took it. _

_If you like the way I write or are interested in reading the sequel, prequel, or companion (should they come) add me to your author alert list through the scroll button on the lower left of this page. Thank you all for reading. __It's been a lovely ride. I bid you adieu…_

Hermione never thought she'd be walking through the front doors of Malfoy Manor, but today they were open to the public, wide and greeting like a mother's arms. And just like that, Narcissa Malfoy came walking gracefully to meet her son. His hand left hers as he went to hug his mother and suddenly, she felt naked to the walls of the grand hallway. Giants could never reach the roof. She wondered if it had been made for that exact reason.

"Is this her?" a voice suddenly came, and Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. Narcissa seized one of her hands and spun her around slowly. "Yes… we can make this work."

Hermione looked at Draco, who was smiling, so she took it as a compliment. "My condolences, ma'am," Hermione said, remembering Lucius.

His mother suddenly turned a little more somber but still strangely upbeat. "Thank you, dear. But I assure you, it's no loss to this household."

Hermione looked a little scared, or so Draco noticed. She had the eyes of a sad little girl looking up to a scolding mother, no matter how easily she was welcomed. Soon as Draco grabbed her hand again, she felt a new valor rise within her and squeezed it tightly.

They walked down the halls and saw dozens of house elves cleaning everywhere, down to the last corner of picture frame. She saw it and grimaced. Draco smiled a little but looked straight ahead so she followed suit, like king and queen walking down the red carpet to their throne.

"And what will you be wearing for the ball, dear?" Narcissa said from ahead as they walked up the stairs.

"Me?" Hermione asked. "What ball?"

"There will be a ball in Draco's honor tonight, of course. He's taking command, after all."

"Mother, are you serious?" Draco asked, obviously unaware himself. Narcissa sighed.

Hermione looked a little worried again and said, "I really don't think I brought anything appropriate…"

"I'm sure we can find something," Narcissa interrupted.

Hermione looked at Draco again who smiled again, feeling her eyes upon him, but continued to look ahead. They were on the third floor of the manor, one carpeted in blue with tiled walls that turned from blue to white halfway to the roof, which was much lower but still monstrous.

They stopped before a large wooden door and Narcissa pulled out a silver key on a burgundy velvet ribbon. She turned around and handed it to Hermione. "I hope you'll find the dress suitable, and welcome to the Manor," she said as Hermione took the key. She looked up and smiled and just like that, Narcissa gave a small bow of the head and with a small pop, she was gone, leaving Hermione and Draco before the large door.

She looked to Draco who smiled and nodded towards the keyhole. She let go of his hand and took a step closer, afraid she'd find "Abandon all hope ye who enter here" inscribed above. She quickly checked and nothing. So she put the key in the hole and pushed the door open (with some effort).

The first thing she saw was the dress displayed on the large bed, a burgundy that called out to her like a beacon at sea. The rest of the room was white with a ceiling made of a tin-like tile engraved with arabesque figures and Celtic knots. It marveled her to no point.

And then the dress… she walked to the bed and ran a gentle hand over the material. It was cold to the touch and oh so soft. It had none of the shine of silk and yet all of the sweet caress it gave. She couldn't wait to try it on for Draco.

She turned around and noticed he was watching her move. She could feel his thoughts radiate towards her, so intensely, and said, "Keep it in your pants, Malfoy." He smiled and looked down, both hands in either pocket. She walked over to him and ran a hand through his hair.

"Darling, if you want me to keep it in my pants, that's not the smart thing to do," he said.

She smiled dismissively but did not move her hand. "Don't cut your hair," she said, admiring its length. "I know you were thinking of doing that for tonight. Don't. Not just yet."

"Really? Sexy is it?" He raised an eyebrow. She smiled which he took as a yes and put a hand over hers beside his head. "Lovely," he whispered. "Feel like christening the room?"

She scoffed and moved away, rounding the bed. The poles reached the high ceiling and she wondered how long it would take someone to climb that. She felt like finding out herself, which Draco probably heard because he gave a small laugh. It was hard getting used to having someone in her head but it was somewhat comforting, like having a beloved beside her in a crowd of strangers no matter where she went.

"Beloved," he whispered and yet she heard him as if a step away. "I like that word. It's fitting."

"So is lovely."

"I wonder why you love it so much," he said with a bright smile.

"I say it again, Draco…"

"Yes I know. Keep my boyish charm in check until tonight."

"Ha! That's if you're lucky."

"I've always _considered_ myself lucky."

"You'd consider yourself Bigfoot if it gets you laid."

"Now there's a wonderful fellow. Great at conversation. Just don't bring up the name Beverly. He still hasn't gotten over her," he said seriously.

She opened her eyes wide. "What does he live in your backyard that you happen to talk to him?"

He laughed and went to sit on the trunk at the foot of the bed. "Nah, my father used to take me hunting. He'd go off after some poor four-legged thing and I'd sit and play with Bigfoot, though he prefers to be called Bob."

"You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"Like there's no tomorrow," he said quickly and she laughed, going to sit beside him. He got a little more serious and continued, "But wouldn't Bob be an awesome name for Bigfoot? He actually prefers John. John Preston. He was a wizard who tried to reconnect with our animal lineage and ended up not only talking with monkeys but living like one. The fur is outstanding though. The guy spends the major part of his day grooming everything… and I mean _everything_."

She laughed again, even harder, and fell back onto the bed. He sighed and got up and went for the door. "Draco?" she called out, noticing his train of thought changing completely.

"The ball is in two hours. They're usually at 7 here. You should start getting ready."

"Draco, what's wrong? I don't like that face."

"Hermione, are you sure this is the right choice. Tonight means the end of your past, of all you knew."

"But it means a beginning with you, doesn't it?"

"Am I really worth it?"

"It's not just about you. It's about _us_. And _we're_ timeless."

Hermione paced at the foot of the bed. Draco still hadn't been back. She bathed and dressed as quickly as possible. She fixed her hair with a few charms and but refused to put on too much makeup. She was horrified of messing it up and looking like a _dead_ queen.

The door opened and she thought it was Draco, but alas no. "Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Narcissa, please. You'll be my daughter-in-law after all."

"Oh I don't know about that yet."

"Well that's what tonight symbolizes. Your marriage."

Hermione's eyes opened so wide, she thought they might pop out of their sockets. It was a minute before she responded, her mouth slightly open. "Marriage?"

Draco opened the door quickly saying joyfully in a sing-song voice, "I hope nobody's decent."

He had two thin glasses of champagne in one hand as he closed the door with the other. He looked in and saw Hermione's stunned face. "MARRIAGE?" she yelled so loud it echoed.

Narcissa turned back to him and said, "You hadn't told her?"

He quickly froze and looked down. He sighed and set down the glasses on the vanity near the door. "Mother, could you give us a minute?"

Narcissa nodded and disapparated with a tiny pop. And they were alone.

"Hermione," he said, reaching into his tuxedo pocket. "I was hoping to do this before but it seems I can never surprise you."

"Oh you bloody well surprised me," she said through gritted teeth, not sure why she was so angry. She was still slightly in shock. Perhaps it was that he hadn't asked her. Perhaps it was that they were so young.

He pulled a little black box from his pocket and knelt down, his hands shaking slightly. He looked like he had trouble breathing.

"Draco, get up," she said sternly.

"Marry me, Hermione," he said with a trembling voice, holding the open box up for her to see. She refused to look at the contents.

And then she gave in to her curiosity and looked down. It was a gorgeous ring, silver. It was a single band with Celtic engravings, like two hearts woven into each other throughout. _See my userpage for picture_

"Is that a question or a command?"

"Please! _Will_ you marry me?" he said again.

She felt herself whimper. "No."

"Why?" he begged, starting to stand up.

"We're not old enough!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" he yelled. "The way we feel now will never fade."

"How can you tell me that? I see your mother! She's happy he's dead. How do I know I won't want the same?"

"You're not my mother! I'm not my father! It's not the same!"

"Then why do I want to die right now?" she whispered as he held her hands. They were so cold. He dropped them immediately and stepped back.

"Don't say that."

"I'll stand by you but it won't be forever. I can't walk into this knowing I can never leave." He shook his head and turned around. "Draco?"

"I can't believe you're over-thinking this. How hard is it, Hermione?" he said calmly and turned around. He wasn't crying at least but his eyes were getting red. She wondered if it was anger or if it had to do with the Veela curse.

"Draco?" she whispered again with a furrowed brow.

He went to take a step but his fist went to his chest, slamming it so hard she heard it almost crack. She felt it in herself. She'd hurt him so much it had turned physical. "I can't breathe…" he hissed as he reached for the bed for support.

"Draco!" she yelled and held his head in both hands. They knelt on the floor against the foot of the bed. She began to sob uncontrollably. "I'll go get help."

"No! Don't leave me."

"I'm so sorry!" she yelled, kissing him. "I'm so sorry! Please be ok."

"Why is this happening?" he asked painfully, his vision becoming blurry. "What did you do?"

Hermione ran down the long hall calling for help but there was nobody in sight. She thought of the ball. They must all be inside by now. She ran to the ballroom, to the sound of music in the distance.

"Help!" she yelled, stumbling into a skidding stop. "Somebody help!"

But nobody listened. She saw Narcissa in the distance, coming across the room to her at the entrance. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Something's happened to Draco!" she yelled. "Why won't anyone listen?"

"You're not Pureblood, dear. They refuse to unless you're with one of us. Come. Take me to him."

Draco lay on the floor in front of the bed. Blood had started to trickle down his mouth but nothing too severely. Narcissa nodded disappointingly. "Did you say no?" she asked Hermione.

"Well… yea, I did. You mean I did this to him?"

"Tsk. You can't tell a Veela you don't want to be with them forever and mean it. They have ridiculous episodes. Also, I'm pretty sure it's psychosomatic. He's always been so dramatic."

"What?" Hermione yelled. "Nobody told me this."

It was a bit reassuring that Narcissa wasn't worried. She went to kneel down beside Draco but looked over to Hermione. "Get over here. Stay with him and I'll stall."

She sighed and walked over to his limp body as his mother left. The sound of the door close made his hand twitch by hers on the floor.

"She's gone," Hermione whispered. She reached for a white handkerchief from her jacket pocket atop the chair from the bed and crawled back to wipe the blood from his mouth. "Wake up, Draco. You'll be fine."

"But I don't want to be fine. I want you to take care of me," he said, turning his head slowly to face her.

She looked down at the handkerchief, white on red. He was the blood to her white cloth. He stained her soul. "Who will take care of me?"

"What?"

"You never thought of that, did you? I live to take care of your dramas, your broken heart. But you never cared what being with you does to me," she said calmly, hatred hidden in her tone. "I love you, Draco, but knowing that alone makes me want to scream."

"So this is why you won't marry me."

"Somewhat. I feel horrible, like there's a cold inside of me that I try to run and hide and cover up but can never escape because the cold is inside my head. It's the void where a part of us used to be. Draco… your kisses make me want to cry. It makes me sick to think I'm stuck here forever. I know I said I'd come with you. I know I said I'd make our own hell to rule. But I can never love you how I once did. I just want to cry and let the cold take over… and now I can't stop shivering, without anyone to hug me and tell me it's going to be ok. No one's here to tell me everything's going to fade, the good and the bad. That the flow of thoughts that led me to this cold place will drift away. But it won't. And nothing will ever be ok again," she said, almost caught in a whisper.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" he asked, sitting up. He wanted to cry too but nothing would ever hurt him like that again. The evil in him not only made him selfish, it made him unfeeling. No matter how much he loved her, this would always win him.

"No. I cannot. I have no one left to go to. You have taken too much of me to say goodbye. To leave would mean saying goodbye to a _part_ of me, but know that while I walk down that hall with you today and though I wear this ring, I can never be happy because I… I know we are no longer real. It's our fate, I suppose. Just like your father and mother. The cold takes over and you become cruel and I become distant and though we are one, we are incomplete."

"No… I can't… I don't believe you. You love me, Hermione. I can tell. I knew it last night when I held you. I felt you. I made you happy."

"That was sex, Draco. It's not the same. Our whole life cannot be based on a simple emotion, a single moment. We make the choice from now on to stay together."

"Why can't we? Why can't we live in that one moment forever?" he begged, grasping her hands in his so tight they pained her.

"Because we're not in a fairy tale, Draco. I'm not Cinderella and no matter how much I wanted you to be, you can never be Prince Charming." She looked away. His eyes begged more than his grip. He was hurting her, just as she hurt _him_.

"She said this to me, before. Farrow. Don't follow her path, Hermione. We can live in that one moment."

"They're waiting for us, Draco. Come. We have a future waiting for us."

"No future. Only now."

"We can't live in the moment!" she yelled, pulling away. She stood up and walked to one of the large windows, looking out into the rising night.

He stood up painstakingly and sat on the edge of the bed. His palm smeared a small drop of blood onto the edge of the white bed. It'd be the last drop of him to the world. "Come here," he whispered and outstretched a hand to her. His own Celtic ring adorned his left hand.

She went reluctantly to him. He looked up at her with begging gray eyes. They were so tired, just as she was. "We can end it here, you know," she said. "Tell me goodbye and I'll leave you to your empire… We'll always have our dreams."

"You're the dream. And I don't want to wake up."

"You've something… what is it?" she asked, squinting as if to see into his thoughts.

"I know a spell," he said. "It's Dark magic, but it'll make it all stop… drown away the world." She looked down and began to cry. "No! No tears! We end it here."

"Draco, the world will never leave us. They will never accept us. I can never be happy in this world knowing they will never accept me for my blood."

"What?" He looked up at her startled. Is this what had brought her answer?

"I cried out for help, Draco! I cried out for them and nobody would hear me!" she yelled. "They wouldn't see me for what I am."

"I told you. We can drown the world. Take us from it."

"It's not the world that's wrong, Draco. It's us."

"No! I refuse to believe that!" he yelled back sternly, gripping her hand again.

She pulled it away. "How can I ever know peace?"

He closed his eyes but reached for her hands again, this time holding them gently. He couldn't lose her. If he had to, he'd wipe away the world. "Hermione, I'm going away. If we can never be happy in this world, we can leave it."

"Draco, you're scaring me."

"We can live in our own little bubble… hide away, not run."

Her eyes opened wide and her breath escaped her. "Aisling…" she whispered. "The Aisling Fate."

"Yes," he said softly, moving a hand up her arm to her elbow. "Trapped forever in a dream of passion."

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he echoed lovingly. And she knew this was it. This was their fate.

"Not here."

"Where?"

Hermione turned away her teary face and smirked.

Narcissa came back to the room some time later, angry the two had left an entire room waiting. "Draco, what the bloody hell are you still doing up here?" she asked at the door. When no one answered, she fully entered.

But the room was empty.

A single note, one last goodbye, rested atop the bed beside the blood stain. Narcissa did not need to read the rest, merely the first line:

_I'm sorry this world could not find a place for us both, mother, so we've gone to make our own. Goodbye…_

Dumbledore found his office same as any other day, all except a letter that awaited him. Fawkes, now a baby bird, cawed for him to open it but the old man dreaded it. He knew what was inside, just as he always knew. It was a goodbye.

He walked over and sat in his chair, staring at the letter for quite some time before opening it. It took up half the page and he could tell Hermione had written it. There was one line that captivated him most of all:

"I leave in your care the last of us, our essence trapped forever in time. Guard us, not as a final favor but as a beacon of hope that one day, we may return to a world worthy of your vision."

Professor McGonagall came in just as he put down the letter back on desk. "Albus, what is it?" she asked at the old man's sad face.

"We have lost two of our best. And the Malfoy line has lost their only heir."

Harry and Ron had not received letter. Hermione had said her goodbyes too many times before. But she left with Dumbledore two keys, the keys to her heart, which she instructed him to give to them. He showed them the letter she'd left and for a moment, it seemed Ron died inside.

"She's really gone?" he asked.

"No," Professor Dumbledore responded. "She'll always be here if you wish to see her. She lives… away, in their private world."

And then he led them to the room, the last resting place. Harry knew it before as the last resting place of the Mirror of Erised. Now, it was a monument.

In the middle of the round room - now lighted with torches of gold and silver fire - stood Draco and Hermione, frozen forever in a kiss. In either's left hand, as they held each other tight, rings had found their home.

"Do you think they know we're here?" Harry asked, timidly at the sight.

"No," Dumbledore answered. "We only see their time still. For them, everything has been slowed. They will dwell in that kiss forever. Perhaps, if they should ever return, there might be a place for them."

McGonagall stood beside him and finished, "No. The world might never change. It may grow or it may die but they will always remain here. Maybe, because there is no other place for them. Maybe this is exactly where they belong: to each other and none other…"

**THE END.**

**REVIEW! **_…if only one last time. _

_Also, if you notice, the sequel, SpellMaster's Revenge, is no longer available online. To be honest, I got tired of it and abandoned it. As far as you're concerned, Draco & Hermione never wake up and the world goes on as it was. Thank you again for reading this far. _


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